Like so many years before.
Slamming doors.
Wasted words.
Fading... Fake smiles.
We walk the streets no one knowing the words that were said the night before.
They ask how you are.
Fine.
You're not fine.
You maybe be alright as in surviving, you got out of bed today...
But you are less than fine... never good, definitely not great...
Because history repeats itself.
The face of the one who once held you slams the door.
The place you called home once the arms of a person who told you they loved you...
That smell of their shampoo as they once rocked you promising you would be okay, is no more.
The smell now burns in the back of your mind...
They were your home, your safe place.
Where do you go when your safe place is under attack?
The feeling of someone reaching inside your chest and ripping your heart out.
Yet the love overpowers the pain...