KarMel Scholarship 2004
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“Broken Heart Shop” By
Desciption of
Submission: “A
poem about healing and moving on after a break up..” – Kristena |
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On my home, I made a single stop. On the Avenue I saw this little shop. There in the window was an open sign. There on the glass was one short line. I halted my steps and reached for the door. Thought to myself, “Had I been here before?” I walked in this shop, looking about. I had never seen this place on my usual route. Nothing to sell was seen anywhere. Nothing of use, to eat, to play or wear, Just a counter a man stood behind, A clock on the wall telling me the time. “Welcome to the Broken Heart Shop. It’s nice you could stop,” The man said with a welcoming grin, “It’s always nice to see you again.” I stepped to the counter with a curious look, Thinking for sure I had been mistook For some patron of this little shop. It could not be me on my first stop. I tilted my head to the smiling man. Trying to sound as natural as I can, “It is my first time to this place. Perhaps you mean another face.” His warm, knowing eyes settled on me. His smile and nod too familiar to be Someone I had just met at this time. I could not place them in this memory of mine. I looked at the clock, almost six at night. The chimes rang out as the hour was right. The room began to fade as her face I saw again. Not her or a picture, just images within. The chimes rang in clear lingering tones. Turning then to the ringing of my phone. Sitting there on my bed when call came through, Her soft voice laced in velvet blue. I hung up the phone and hung up my heart. Then had come the hardest part I had to tell myself over again I would not miss what might have been. Months went by in a light daze. My life went on still in that maze. I spent my nights inside cold; Empty arms with no one to hold. Trapped somewhere in my own mind, Peace and comfort I had to find. It’s not the first time; it won’t be the last, I told myself, it’s only the past. I brushed away my tears. The chime of the clock still in my ears. The man’s eyes saw right through me. I knew just then what he could see. It wasn’t me first stop In this little Broken Heart Shop. The man he knew well My heart, mind and private hell. “Always on time, the hour is right. I think you’ll sleep better this night.” He grinned with a wink. I just stared, not even a blink. I looked to the clock And with every tock I felt the soft drumming Of my own heart humming. The heart I hung up so long ago, Time had come and mended the hole. Restored this day to its home, No longer feeling so cold or alone. “Good to see you, perhaps I will more,” The man said as I turned to the door. My eyes were clear and so was my mind. I had been given back what I had left behind. Whole again, no scars to see Praying this time it would be The last time I had to stop At this little Broken Heart Shop. |