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?
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