Composure

You said, "you break my heart when you write like that".
Mine cracked a little, mutating from its matter of fact solidity
into some malleable confession that neither foreshadows
or fragments into nothingness.

Was it the acceptance of your departure
or the realization of accepting mine
that hurt you so?

I ponder your reaction the only way I know how,
filling the air with more words
trying to make sense of your voice.

It's been four days
with no sound.