A breaking heart makes a sound. It's one that is quiet to everyone else, but the sound resonates loudly, echoing up from your chest into your head. It is at the same time piercing and rumbling. Others can see it in your eyes, and the gentle slope of the shoulders. To you it drowns out all other stimuli. The world looks, sounds, feels, and tastes gray.
I look around the train and realize that i am not the only person who has demons that walk with me, but for whatever reason we all sit in quiet pain; putting on a strong face for everyone. Some people just live and die one regret at a time.
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