Grieving in Silence

I am sitting quietly, grieving in silence.
My hands rest neatly in my lap.
My new bangs hide my swollen eyelids.
My fingers — raw from being picked at — tell on me.

I look out the window, tempted to publicly shame you.
But I don’t.
I won’t.
So I grieve in silence.

I grieve the person I created, the one who never really existed.
I grieve the idea that with me, something might have been amiss.
I am tempted to reach out, to beg for a hug,
but grieving in silence is safer
than reopening a wound that still hums beneath the skin.

I am grieving in silence.
Not reaching for the phone,
not for the comfort of another man,
just grieving in silence
for someone who never gave a damn.

For those who listen between the lines.
Elaine Degro