She gazes adoringly across the table and catches his eyes,
An outpouring of emotion catches him off guard within her stare,
Her heart pounds as she asks her silent question,
Waiting, hoping, dreaming, praying, laying her beautiful heart bare.
He looks away and studies the scenery out the window, appreciating the snow,
Knowing she silently awaits an answer, requesting he return her emotion,
He frowns as he ponders, digging within the dark corners of his heart,
Asking himself if he could continue to return her sincere devotion.
The room hisses in connective silence,
The only disruption is the music she had risen to score,
A melody of pure bliss, a private message of passion,
Hoping he’ll pick up on the words of love, give her the answer she’s waiting for.
He turns back to face her, raising his glass in a respectful salute,
He reaches across the table and touches her hand gently,
She offers a tentative smile, hope rising as a blush on her pretty cheeks,
But he struggles to think, especially while she’s watching him so intently.
For now, he shrugs his shoulders in indecision,
And glances down into his lap in unease,
Nervously picking his fingernails, tearing the skin until they bleed,
Wanting to give her all she needs, wanting to please.
The indecisiveness on his face concerns her,
She sits quietly worrying her teeth against her bottom lip,
Wanting, waiting, but her heart is beginning to sink within her chest,
Beginning to understand this may be a one sided partnership.
She removes her hand from under his fingers,
And it’s her turn to now gaze upon the snow falling outside,
Her heart tears and shatters into a thousand pieces,
And it’s impossible to hold on within the pain she cannot hide.
He raises his head at the charge of emotion felt in the room,
Gazing at her bowed head with a desperation of his own,
He begins to reach for her once more,
But hesitates himself, feeling the insurmountable agony of the unknown.
She turns back, her eyes silently pleading, begging in their intensity,
But he sadly shakes his head as a tear falls upon his cheek,
He doesn’t want to give her a false hope, a promise he’ll need to break,
Not even for a moment of happiness, a day, maybe two, at the most a week.
He rises from his chair, saunters over to the record player,
And she watches as he flicks through the music collection,
He chooses one with care and slots it into place,
Moving the needle carefully to his song of selection.
The melody begins softly playing, a drum of chaotic heartbeats,
The singer croons and hums in time,
The words softly rise in crescendo, sad and forlorn,
As the guitar riff begins to climb.
She sits and sobs her heartbreak, her tears awash upon her face,
As she listens to the words of a devastating goodbye,
Knowing it’s his answer, the one she was waiting for,
But disbelieving of his decision as she continues to cry.
He stands and faces her, the pain in his eyes speaking volumes,
This is the end, his message comes across loud and clear,
Their silence will now be forever, one of distance and despair,
As he has made the fatal decision to up and disappear.
She rises to her feet with pride,
Standing before him in her raw and vulnerable state,
Gifting him her last sorrowful smile,
Horrified at his sealing of their fate.
With one last look she walks from the room,
Not honouring him with a final backward glance,
She’s done — the relationship is over,
She’d given him one final chance.
She walks the hollow halls of her sorrow from that point forward,
Ripping him from her soul and walking away,
She pours her aching pain into an avalanche of broken history,
Believing she’ll never be okay.
He watches her fade from his view,
His heart aching at the torment he can’t help but feel,
His love for her never waned making his decision even harder,
But his silent goodbye one that sealed the deal.
Unbeknown to her, his decision was based on necessity,
Not because his love had diminished or died,
Believing a clean break was for the best,
But damn if it doesn’t hurt, he thinks to himself as he sat there and cried.
Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
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Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.