What is the sound of one heart breaking?



It is the sound of someone curled up in a tiny ball crying softly in
the night, the sound of the first unwanted teardrop touching your skin,
it’s the sound of a telephone that doesn’t ring, the sound of regret
pounding inside your brain with every heartbeat, it’s the whispers of the
toy animals ha gave you.

It’s the shuffing of feet walking away from you, the sound of your soul
shattering into a million pieces at recognizing the word "goodbye",
it’s the soundtrack of memories torturing you, it’s the sound of feeble
hands trying to push back the obstinate hands of time, it’s the sound of
a cherub’s dying breath , the sound of all those years disappearing in
the vortex of Cupid’s kitchen sink, it’s the unrelenting, plaintive
baby meows of an abandoned kitten outside an ignoring door.

It’s the sound of the rain that doesn’t ever stop, the sound of all the
doors in the world shutting and closing in your face at the same time,
of raging, howling storms in the night when there’s no one there to
hold you, the sound of your voice as it screams back at you, echo of "I
love yous" burning holes in you, the sound your heart makes as it tells
you to lie still because nothing you will ever do will matter without
love.



The sound of the waves at the polluted beach you went to as it moves
from the shore and crashes inside your mind, of the sniffles that make up
your pathetic "SOS-to-the-world," the cracking of the brittle black-red
petals from the sidewalk vendor roses he gave, the sound of the music
he used to make going your gut.



The sound of things in your room being thrown around and landing on the
floor, the caress of sharpened kitchen knives on skin, the sound your
throat makes as you swallow your saltiest tear. It’s the sound of your
own voice calling out to someone who isn’t there, of winged creatures
dying and falling on a city pavement, of terms of endermeant used a
hundred times a day struggling to crawl into a vacuum of forgetfulness, it’s
the sound of your own sobs keeping you company, it’s the cold, uncaring
stillness ofthe air you share your space with.



Destruction isn’t always as noisy as exploding. Sometime the ultimate
catastrosphes are as quiet as a faether falling in the floor of a Zen
monastry. No one else can really hear your heart breaking except you.

(posted by Allen Quintos @ PinoyWriters)