Your voice a serenade of silent players, instruments left abandoned long ago. Music drifts to the floor, settles, waits.
Things were never the same after you left. The world didn’t know itself. Things would pause before they fell, a moment where they stopped and thought, what am I alone? Time stretched
Then shattered
And you knew then that you would keep falling. A pause of mercy is no mercy at all.
Silent instruments left to serenade themselves. They collect dust, almost as lonely as my reflection, alone in the mirror. I can’t bear to touch them, can’t bear to let my fingers touch where your hands rested.
I pause before I fall. Don’t know myself. Time stretches
Then shatters
