I’ve seen heartbreak sewn into the violent violet circles on my sister’s face. I’ve seen it in her eyes because I swear to god they still look like shattered glass and I’m not saying you can never be happy again but heartbreak is your handprint injected into my bloodstream.
I’ve heard heartbreak in the crack of my best friend’s voice as she begged me to come pick her up from the gas station in the loneliest hours of the day when the night sky smudges with the morning sky. I’ve heard it in the way she talks about you because you chewed her heart up and spit it out like the poison that laced the corners your lips each time you kissed her.
I’ve tasted heartbreak on his tongue because when he kisses me and closes his eyes she still plays behind his eyelids on a monotonous gut wrenching repeat. He said he was over her but the last thing on his mind before sleep took him was the color of her favorite lipstick.
I’ve felt heartbreak in my grandmother’s damp hands as she tried to scrub away the touch of a man who she would never touch again because fate had decided to kill half of her instead of all at once. She still mutters his name with every shuttering breath she takes.
I’ve smelled heartbreak in the tobacco breathed boys and the cherry chapsticked girls. I’ve smelled it in the rain and I still smell it in my clothes.
Baby you were a disease that wracked a body and possessed the senses. I spit out your name and scraped away your touch and still your phantom lurked in the most gilden parts of my life. Your arms still hug my ribs and your lips still graze mine. I know this. This is heartbreak.
Don’t trust boys with pretty words and crooked smiles