My boyfriend broke up with me yesterday,
and yes, I cried. Flashbacks
of trips and dinners, and
romantic settings. The sex was
good and so such scenes played in my
mind, repeatedly. I was
so stuck on his eyes, the way they
stared at me, his hands-the way
they touched me. So raveled up
in this being that I
forgot about the outside.
On the news, I hear
stories of fallen soldiers, missing
kin, nature turned over-things we
often ignore despite the fact
that they’re horrible, because they
happen all the time. The
selfishness in my heart
surrenders itself. It now goes out
to those mixed in even the
simplest kind of tragedy. Now, things like
heartbreak don’t seem worthy
of half the attention we give.
So much more matters...