a different kind of heartbreak

i turn up the music, fill the tub, hoping the water drowns the sound of my tears.
God forbid you hear me pleading for answers.
but the ceiling just stares back with emptiness.
my heart is empty, suffering from a death.
might as well be a death, they do start with the same letter.

your watering eyes pour so many questions.
you get your temporary comfort from forced giggles and innocent affection,
but as soon as he's gone you'll drag yourself into my room.
i'll try to take us back ten years,
sitting at the bottom of the hill
under the oaks...day dreaming of boyfriends, first kisses,
and the day we would drive jeeps.
our lives were filled. we had seen no example other than love.

every tear i have cried has dripped down my cheeks next to you.
you were there for every dissappointment,
every time he left me
and every time he came back
you would curse his name for me.

i cannot curse your mother's name.
it will not help but i desperately search for what will.
your composure is slipping from your finger tips
but you being you and knowing me too well just say,
"it's okay if you want to cry"
that's what i am supposed to be telling you.
but you know my tears don't fall so freely.

so i turn up the music and drown the sound of my broken heart because
when it does hit you, when that half of you drives away for the last time,
i want to be as dry as that dirt road on those summer days when we were ten
so i can be your anchor when your tears try to carry you away.