I embraced you like
a guitar.

I made you sing,
then
smashed you
before thousands
of screaming fans.

who knew this would happen?

between the player and the played
somebody is being used;
and I can't tell if it was me using you,
or the other way around.

picture me now,
kneeling amidst your splinters
my fingers and arms bleeding.

the stadium is empty.
the concert being long over.

and I’m
weeping
for the music
we made,
but can make
no more.