Just Words

by Dawn Colclasure

He can't do this
Tell me that it's over
Throw away everything we used to be
And everything we have.

He stares out the window,
Blue eyes fixed on some shadow
Lurking behind the trees.
Wet black hair dripping over his face,
Rain droplets from outside still with him.

"I'm sorry," is all he manages to say.

I can only sit there,
Looking at him sitting at my side.
Side by side
But worlds apart.
Like we weren't even inside of his car.
We were outside
Still in the rain
Still wrestling in the mud.
And laughing.
How long ago had it been that we laughed?

I feel my mud-caked clothes tightening up all around me,
Encasing my body in some makeshift cocoon,
Shielding me from the blow of his words.
Words only mumbled not too long ago.

"I don't love you anymore."

Then my voice stirs.
I feel a trembling within me,
The heart weakly shivering
As my mouth opens.
"But how can we throw away all we had now?
All the things that we've been through?
All the words that we've said?"

He slowly turns his head to look at me,
A tiny smear of mud mixing with his tears.
Or is it rain?
"They're only words," he says now,
A tinge of pain in his voice.
The words materialize into the air I am breathing,
Fiercely crushing every single piece of him I have left.