Broken

Distance is relative, that's what they say, what they want to make me believe. But I know the truth. Distance is void, it's a black pit of darkness measured in kilometers when it really should be counted in heart beats.

Boom. All the faces I recognize together once again and I'm sitting alone in a solitary corner. Nobody notices it, but the wound opens.

Boom. Our song comes on the radio, the one that had all our hands in the air and our hips going crazy. I turn the volume down because I don't have anyone to dance with now. The crack gets bigger.

Boom. A picture of us hugging, that group hug in a foreign country, slips out of the album almost wanting to make the bleeding faster.

Boom. I reread old conversations we had for hours planning afternoons that ended up with us rolling on the floor laughing and wish I could be the one who got to every place early and had to wait in the cold mountain air again. My feet can't hold of me anymore so they let me fall.

Boom. I find an old pen in my bag, the one who wrote all the secrets, smirks, ideas and moments in that classroom. I throw it away as drops fall with it.

Boom. A scene of that movie we acted is on the television, I see myself in a character and I see the laughs, dances, uncoordinated melodies, hilarious costumes in the colors of the film. I scream as my middle tears in half.

Boom. I smell the aroma of our freedom, joy and friendship. Endless afternoons in the park talking about our futures. I wrap my arms around myself to try to keep the pieces from breaking any further.

It won't beat anymore, it has stopped and all I feel is emptiness. The distance has overwhelmed me and it has taken the biggest part of me; it doesn't look willing to give it back.