My thoughts bleed onto paper, as if my heart was stabbed.
Gushing forth, no bandage can stop it,
A chasm is what is left of a beating heart.
Voiceless laying dead on the ground.

The thunder woke me the same way you broke my heart.
I sat up in bed, sweating, panic settling in
The same way it welcomed me graciously when I realized
I'd have to endure every single day
without less than a single spoken word

You won't even look at me.

I used to fight
for you, against you
against the constant urges to look you directly in your gold threaded eyes
and wonder why?

There was a day
where I fought for your heart
and won.

Nothing is the same.
Now it's all detachment and denial
from you, my thoughts, my anger
from the amber glow that follows me radiating red
a somewhat burning hell.

Every morning I see you go to your locker
That's when I can still hear the thunder.