heartbreak hurts more when you're happy

when my tongue briefly meets

the edge of his name

a sharp crushing gloom grasps the back of my throat

like a bare pill begging for water

even the softest start of his name

a mere whisper of that very first letter

tiptoes like pink satin ballet slippers,

right through my ears

falling deep in the grooves of my pale, longing lips.

as if i can still taste every syllable.

then misty hot tears well up in my eyes

like floods climbing the streets

of a silent, drainless city.

it’s because i easily bruise

like a soft summer peach

and heartbreak hurts more when you’re happy