11:37

According to my clock it's eleven thirty seven, but I won't feel the heartbreak until ten past my midnight curfew. I'm just a little too fragile and far too easily hurt, or so I've been told by my assortment of safety pins and sewing needles. I was too busy wasting space to catch the conversation, but not too busy breathing to miss those few whispered words. I'm such a fool, blissfully oblivious to the fact that you never really cared. I blame my ignorance on the silence of my walls. Who knew they could lie so convincingly, or did I fail to recognize their lack of truth for honesty?