I Can Tell You

I can tell you what a broken heart looks like. It looks like wadded up Kleenex next to the bed. It looks like a disheveled ponytail. It looks like runny mascara. It looks like wasted hours staring into space. It looks like uneaten food. It looks like unsent texts. It looks like fake smiles. It looks like the dog on the bed at 3am just so it doesn’t feel so alone.

I can tell you what a broken heart sounds like. It sounds like a silent phone. It sounds like “…but I love him” on repeat in your head. It sounds like muffled sobs. It sounds like a mom’s consolation. It sounds like a friend’s revenge. It sounds like a wordless mantra “I'll be ok, I'll be ok.” It sounds like Adele on the iPod. It sounds like incessant pounding on your temples. It sounds like the running water of a numbing shower. It sounds like the voicemail of an unanswered call.

I can tell you what a broken heart smells like. It smells like neglected trash. It smells like day old food left sitting on the counter. It smells like dirty hair. It smells like an overflowing hamper. It smells like cold dinner. It smells like flipped through magazine pages unread. It smells like saltwater tears collected on a sleeve. It smells like unwashed pillowcases that still hold his scent.

I can tell you what a broken heart feels like. It feels like insomnia on sleeping pills. It feels like un-brushed teeth. It feels like dampness in your bones. It feels like warm doggie kisses checking you’re alright. It feels like knots in your stomach. It feels like a good friend’s warm hug. It feels like swollen eyes. It feels like too much wine. It feels like shards of your future falling to pieces in your hands.