What Hurts the Most
It’s not the screams that hurt
Nor the slamming of my door
Not the stinging words we said
Or the broken vase upon the floor
It’s not the tears that burn
Or this fire within my breast
Nor this gnawing, aching feeling
Devouring my chest
It’s the ringing in my ears
Of your silent adios
The sorry that we left unsaid
That really hurt the most
It’s the door you do not open
The vase you don’t clean up
The tears you don’t wipe away
That really breaks me up.
Copyright © Amber Bloom | Year Posted 2017
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