Melancholia

My phone buzzes with a volley of text messages that light the darkened room with a harsh glow.

Angry, stubborn, brutal words paint the screen, each jockeying for precedence against each other. Sharp consonants and long vowels that extend innocuous words into a written curse.

They settle into my heart like a thousand cuts. Alone, they’d be a simple bruise that heals overnight. Together they leave leather scars amongst the other ties that bind me together.

And still, the phone buzzes.