I cried while walking home from work today. It was a quiet morning and there were a few joggers nodding good morning as they jogged past me. The sun just started beaming its glory over this lowly girl who felt the morning due was a mixture of the dry earth and her sour tears. All because of a boy.
I had a nightmare yesterday. I dreamt that my ex sent me photos of him and his girlfriend. They looked in love and the only thing clear to me was the pain that kept stabbing as images flashed one after the other. I’m not bitter but I’m honest. And even if the images were happy, or the fact that it was just a dream, the pain was real. I really don’t want to remember the stabbing feeling. The reason why I’m writing is because it’s been a long while since I tried rechanneling all this pain to other things. I’ve just been crying and crying and crying - it’s getting pretty boring really. All that crying for all the months that’s gone by. I’ve got to start with something, even if the words are all blurry and I’m a little messed up right now. So here it is. Writing about a nightmare and this crying woman on her way home from work. All because of a boy…
who broke her heart.
