Laiba Naveed

Broken Dishes And Bruised Hearts

To the one who held those broken promises to his heart

It was 6 in the morning the sun was about to rise, the birds were chirping as the wind whistled brushing against my skin a sweet touch stung to the bruise around my hand. Standing on, the damp grass my toes wiggled as I took in the fresh air something my insides had been craving. The calming atmosphere I could hear my heart beating inhaling the air that soothed my every curve.

Walking, towards the edge of the balcony, there still wasn't a trace of yours being home. You had left when the mess you created, got ugly things were out, in the open and you refused to band it up letting the blood soak you in.

Turning back towards the room I had left untouched the wind howled grasping me seeping the coldness within. Broken dishes laid on the floor mixed with anguish the wind cut sharp, making the bruise around my hand stung more as a small gasp escaped my lips. Believing the acidulous words you murmured the wrath inside you was out then yet your eyes glistened with regrets.

Stepping towards the door the sun was rising the horizon orangish seemed like a lost hope rising to the skies of faith ruled by the merciful was finally holding the hopeless closer. Everting my eyes towards the room frames laid beside the shattered dishes, it felt as if the voices were still echoing in there. The words you whispered bounced back louder now.

Walking through, the mess the silk scarf sat on the couch unmoved with the bloodstains around the corners right where you stood. My pleas were silenced by the beating of your heart, something I could only hear now. You choked on your words as you held those broken promises close to your heart the fears screamed louder now. The wind blew harshly across the room, tumbling me. The bruise stung, even more, reminding me of the remains of our love. Making my way to the bedroom, I closed my eyes, feeling the scent of yours for the last time.

You had closed yours before I even had opened my heart to yours. The fears you were living in, the pain you were breathing in, scarred us for the flaws that weren't even of us.

Putting the suitcase down, I walked through the room looking at the pieces covering the floor if you wouldn't have marred me like this.

~ From the one who couldn't fix you