i rip my heart up piece by piece

bird's eye view of the room.
phone in the corner. girl piled in the middle of the bed, legs entwined with the sheets shes pressed into. hand across her eyes, quickly wiping the tears slipping away from the eyelids. other hand pressed against her heart, trying to lessen the pain felt inside. mind reeling, stomach twisting, chest heaving.

its a delicately edited movie flashing behind her eyelids, the best canvas she has. flashes of sun, of skirts, of grass, of fireworks, of icecream, of carefully constructed plans months in the making, of sneaking into houses, of laughing and breaking into parks for conversations under the cover of night and quiet of sleepy towns. of talking, of music, of tshirts, of fingers and arms, of whispers and pressed lips, of hands on sides, on legs, on..

faster and faster. sliding into her mind and leaving just as quickly. time spent wondering and hoping and dreaming--wasted. eyes closed tight and smiles in the dark pointless. meaningless music being turned up to drown out the thoughts that want to enter. fingernails into palms of hands to prevent the phone from ringing. or to wish the phone to ring. whichever will be welcome.

i find it so coincidental. so coincidental. the only thing playing on my computer are the things we danced to months ago. the date the same exactly one year ago, the time we 'met.'
its perfect.
its full circle.
are we starting or ending?

if only my mind would grasp that and run with it. instead its running elsewhere; or not running at all.

she presses send, heart in throat. sits up, wipes at her cheek one last time, and immerses herself in work.
constantly moving to forget.
laughing to pretend her insides are the same.
cue the endless convincing of her mind 'it's okay.'