The Bearer of Bad News

February 18, 2010
At a loss for words, I stare at my hands
memorizing the cracks and tracing the veins.
Music plays dully in the background
covered up by the buzzing in my ears.

I look around the room at the pictures--
anything to avoid your eyes.
I can't look at you, I can't bare your face,
I can't let myself cry.

I get up, pull the sleeves down on my sweatshirt
and walk out the door.
You don't say anything but it's okay,
sometimes silence speaks the loudest.

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