A scene, reminiscent of one too familiar

for comfort plays across the screen.
And I sit there, at my desk,
tears silently dripping down my face.

As the scene progresses, so does my memory
filling in the blanks the film leaves out
and I begin to sob, chest heaving,
each convulsion infused with grief
and suffering.

I run out of the classroom, every eye on me
as I make my way to the door,
struggling to stand up.
I know what they're thinking,
but they have no idea of
the full story behind the sobs.

Finally I reach the door
and pull it closed behind me.
Unable to make it to a bathroom,
I collapse ouside the classrom,
bent over, cradling my face in my hands
trying to stifle the emotions and the tears
that push their way out of my broken heart.

And I lie there for what seems an eternity.
Knowing people see me, but beyond caring
I continue to let the trapped feelings flow out
in the form of tears and gasps of pain,
not physical, yet very real -
the pain of loss.

Eventually the sobs subside
and I take shuddering breath after
shuddering breath.
Somehow, the flow of tears and sorrow
have healed an open wound

Not completely, a scar still shows,
but the sharp pain of fear has left
leaving only a throbbing ache that
will accompany me for years to come.