The Break

I couldn’t see his face

I couldn’t hear him

Quivers in the words that spilled from my soul

turned into splatters on the tile of the kitchen floor

as the pain in my chest sharpened.

He was gone

and I was laying on the cold kitchen floor,

cheeks to tile

hands to chest

legs and feet in fetal

positioned for the unbearable reality of

loss.

He was gone

and I was finally broken

with nothing but a record playing from my head to my chest.

…my break down.

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