The Goodbye Piece

I stare at your name as it scrolls across the television screen. My mother sits on the edge of her seat, her face is white, her hands lay like two stones in her lap.

A small picture of you is displayed.

I focus on your eyes.

I see two dark pools.

I remember everything.

The screen flickers and suddenly you are gone.

My mother takes the remote and turns off the T.V.

She rises silently and leaves the room.

Her sobs float down the hall as I'm left alone.

Her cries trigger a deep sadness inside me.

The kind of sadness that wrenches your heart and leaves you feeling empty.

The kind that splits your very being down the middle and leaves you raw and ragged, sensitive,

to all kinds of pain.

The kind, like a knife,

ripping deep into your sanity.

My mother begins to wail, her anguished voice echoes in my head.

I feel the same.

A burning, throbbing, strain

in my chest.

My heart collapses under the misery.

I squeeze my eyes shut and picture you laughing.

Another twinge of pain.

Another spasm of grief.

I hold desperately onto the image.

You are still gone when my eyes re-open.

I rock back and forth,

bawling.

You promised that you'd return.

You lied.

A soft,

unknowing lie

that tore everything

to pieces.