My parents laugh from the other room,

Their happiness makes me sad.

I wonder if they are aware

Of my broken heart

Or if they have ever experienced

An ache like mine.

 

His face is everywhere:

In a building with a million corridors 

I can't ignore,

The feeling of a ghost

Lurking sore in the pathways of my mind

There is nothing to be said or done.

 

A source gloated the facts

He wanted to be friends with me

How could that ever be?

When he hurt me

Left me with bruises;

Red and gold

The way tiny holes rip apart souls.

 

I see those surrounding me

Placing the sharred glass back into the mould

Somehow, I know it will be drank from,

Many times more

Don't mistake eyes and words,

For forevers next time around.