you knew I was an easy target
for anything acoustic.
you knew exactly how to get
to my heartstrings
that were torn, reattached,
ripped in pieces, and then joined back together.
walking briskly down the stairs
in a fit of anger you never looked back
and when you slammed the door shut
you were just trying to tell me that
you forgot how to play guitar,
you forgot about me and my love
for the beauty of raw music.
you left me hormonal and insecure,
with my heart beating irregularly
like a broken cassette or a scratched record.
and the strings holding me together
were never reattached into their original positions.
Author notes
adrenaline.
Comments
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Awesome poem
The emotions, like adrenaline, were rushing through this poem.
I loved it. -
you forgot how to play guitar,
you forgot about me and my love
for the beauty of raw music.
lovelovelovelovelovelovelove.
<3
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