The Break in the Echo

[idle knoll]

Daylight hums, the same old tune—
Wake up.
Shower, brush your teeth,
School bells ringing,
Games in class, time slipping past,
Lunch break homework, another task,
And after school, the games resume.
Repeat.

But then she came—
A breath in the monotony.
Her smile, a spark in routine,
Crushed hearts under classroom lights,
But they stayed friends,
Late-night sessions, COD battles,
No one hanging up first.
They stayed awake,
Something new in the echoing days.

Then the park, after school,
I spy with my little eye,
Guessing games, a bet to win,
He won, she lost—
Laughter in the leaves.
But birthdays fade like summer light,
A walk home after school,
She talked of breaks,
He couldn’t see the cracks.
A goodbye kiss, confusion thick,
She needed space,
And he wondered what went wrong.

Days blurred—still walking,
But something distant in her eyes.
Her best friend beside them now,
A wingman’s plan taking flight,
And then they stopped,
Confronted by the truth—
Break
Wasn’t just a pause,
But a break up in disguise.
He felt the sting but hid the hurt,
Said it was okay,
Cried alone in the night,
Wondering if he’d been played,
If this was all a scheme.

Two weeks later,
A school event,
Water splashing,
Classes out,
And she asked him—
Did he like her?
Confusion wrapped tight,
A trap, a play—
He said yes,
But it wasn’t true,
The words like lead on his tongue.

The end of the day,
Inside the theater,
Rewind, play it back—
He apologized,
Talked through the mess,
But left feeling lost,
Not sure if he was to blame,
Or just another piece in the game.
Did someone leave mad?
Sad?
Or confused?
The echo remains,
The answer lost.

Weeks later, the park still calls,
A circle of memories etched in paths,
He walks alone,
But not quite lonely,
The air thick with echoes,
Of laughter that once filled these trees.

He steps where they played,
I spy,
The game’s still fresh,
Her smile, her laugh,
The way she lost that bet,
And how the leaves rustled like applause.

Each footfall a memory,
Not bitter, but sweet,
Reminders of what was,
Of moments untouched by the end.
He circles back,
To where they sat,
Conversations lingering in the wind,
He breathes them in,
The good, the bad,
All part of the same song.

And though the chorus changed,
Though the notes fell flat,
He still hums the tune,
The melody of their time,
Not broken, just different,
Still echoing in the quiet.

He smiles,
Because even as things fade,
They still remain,
A part of the circle,
A loop of good memories,
That he can always walk through,
No matter where the path leads next.

Mustard-Life is a collection of moments, some filled with joy, others with pain. But it’s in the fragments of these fading memories that we find the strength to move forward, knowing that even in the confusion, we grow.