ode to torn thoughts

looking into the calendar
i see a very simple day
none-interested opaque grey sky of
gentle rolling hills of silence
dotted with occasional bird calls

soon, all will break loose
with abandon, joy and excitement
fiery display of love and affection
childish explosions and declarations
however gaudy it may appear
or shallow and pink it could be
may be off white and precious
much like a new child's dress
no expectations or worries
of mud or dirt on the trims

i package myself in cynical wrapping paper
and gather courage to look right through the faces
of lovers
of friends
of couples
of human bonds
instead
i close my eyes
to dark space of silence

instead of sharing a heart
i am tearing a heart
or two.