Whispers Through the Open Window

A missed appointment, an empty chair,
the scent of a broken heart fills the air.
The clock moves on, though time stands still,
as silence bends against my will.

The open window sighs your name,
a ghostly whisper, soft yet plain.
The scent of a broken heart fills the air,
lingering where you are not there.

A discussion lost, a love undone,
a battle fought; but neither won.
The scent of a broken heart fills the air,
woven through words that went nowhere.

The evening fades, the world moves on,
yet I remain where you have gone.
The scent of a broken heart fills the air,
but you are gone; and unaware.