they were just three simple words. ("No, thank you.") Look at me once more with those soft eyes and light smile. As quickly as you ran to see what had fallen, I wish you would see that besides the TV, I was on the ground. Your smile tripped me and your soft eyes pushed me. I lay on the ground looking up to see, wrapped in the words no longer trapped behind your sweet lips, my metaphoric heart. I sigh at how quickly I recognize the bruises and scrapes and deep incisions of my heart. You walk away but your words still linger in the air, "Are you okay?" Another three simple words. . .And now, months later, I still have a hard time answering the question. I stood up, wiped the words off my heart and tried to act as if it never happened. But I know the words to linger on my (metaphoric) heart, the way perfume lingers in an elevator. Every now and then I still get a whiff of your oh so wonderful scent. The words though are different. They've grown longer than three simple words, they smell different and imprint differently on the non-beating heart that lays heavy on my mind. Back then, my voice was absent, but now its present and ready to say, "Are you okay?"
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