Broken Unbroken

The room smells of dust and memories. Looking at it through its eight feet entrance, I try remembering home in it. Purple curtains and the table by its side. Walls with posters; walls with paintings. I lightly swing my torso backwards, resting pale knuckles with a single ring on the mahogany frame as I see the reflection of emptiness echoing back at me. I’m not sure if it’s the silence that makes my heartbeat so audible or the silence within. Leaving my imprint on the door, I walk in with the company of wheels rolling by my side. The fans wake up with a creaking I’m glad to hear. I sit down cross legged on the unfamiliar mattress with the familiar bed sheet of pearl with red roses. Pulling my knees close to my chest, I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing only to juggle chirping, creaking and dry gulps. There’s a buzz that breaks me from the silent chaos as I’m notified of a message.

“Hey. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. Crazy hectic schedule. I’ll meet you next time for sure! Keep in touch!”

There is something starving about parting without parting midway. Something that eats you when you get lost while the parted is home; safe; unaware. That eats you while you carve new routes as the parted walks on paths you once walked on together. Something that eats away understanding, leaving crumbs of fear behind. It’s like a thief, snatching unfinished time, telling you to say goodbye when you only started saying hello.

I turn around to take in this room one more time. This room that was once home. That smells of dust and memories. My body cringes as the starvation bangs on the doors of my chest, making me roll up on the unfamiliar mattress as I gasp for air; cursing.

There is a grief in parting midway that you can not escape. There is a hunger in it that starves you as it dries out your eyes and fills you with void, spinning you directionless. There is a hunger in it that makes you walk out in search to kill it; to silence it, teaching you to relish meals you never knew about; teaching you the different goodbyes.

I dust my pants as I get up, trying to memorize every uneven parts of the walls and the way the sunset rays fall into the room, walking out to see the warmth of a familiar smile look at me with eyes welled up and a promise that parting whispers.

“Hey. You ready to leave?”


4 thoughts on “Broken Unbroken”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s