Call at 4AM

Tears running down her gentle blushed cheek, her were eyes tired and heavy, and her mind runs rapid with thoughts that rush like white water rapids. She reaches for her phone and dials ten digits into the phone as her eyes are in and out of a blurry vision caused by tears that she can’t seem to stop flooding from her eyes. She blinks her eyes as if they were windshield wipers to swipe away the rapid pour of the rain of salty drops. She speaks into the phone tear drops wetting the screen of the phone and laying across her face as she speaks.

She tells me that her heart got broken; I tell her you can’t break what you never give. I tell her to stop crying and tell me concerning the origin of the tears. She stumbles on her words trying to tell me about how she was hurt and abandoned and her heart left out in the air to dry.

The fear of sounding simple minded wrecked my word choices. I tell her to move on and to let it go even though she wants to stay. I told her to close her heavy curtain like eyelids and stop the rainy nights from flooding down her cheeks. I tell her to imagine. Imagine roses surrounding her and to keep her eyes closed and to take a deep breath and to smell the beauty around her. There is so much for her to be hurt over, yet she is hurt over someone who decimated her heart.

Yet I am here to pick up the pieces of the heart I never broke.


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