Heart break isn’t poetic.
It’s your mom crying
While she holds your shaking body
As you ask her why you weren’t good enough,
When all she sees is a daughter with so much potential.
It’s your friends sitting silent
As you break down in the middle of lunch
Because they don’t know how to cure you
Other than telling you to move on.
Heart break is sitting at two am
Stuck in your thoughts,
Then falling asleep at 2 pm
When you can’t think straight.
Its silent therapy sessions
Without a word exchanged
And no progress for months on end.
A broken heart is waking up every day
With a pit in your stomach
Not wanting to move,
But having to because life is a train
That leaves the station
With or without you.
Heartbreak isn’t poetic,
It’s tragic.