She was an old jazz song played on a broken piano string tied to the moon and the scars of his heart
He was the twisted and warped kneck of the ghost of a violin haunting the halls of her soul
Their love was lost long ago in a forest forgotten by time and swallowed by eternity
They both wandered the world never knowing the others name but finding each other every night at the brief moment between sleep and dreams
and they would both hear each others music as it was sewn note for note into the fabric of true love
and they would wake miles and mountains apart and years away and yet still feel the nights song flowing within the pulse of their blood

What hurts the most is because I don't know what it's like
But you do
And I'm sorry you have to know what it's like
And I am scared that one day I will too
That I will know what it's like
For someone I love to die

When I read a heartfelt poem
When I eat the last piece
When I stub my toe on the side of the door
When I bite my cheek
When I get wound up and in a huff
When I witness a creature die
Whenever I think about you now
I cannot help but cry.