You
ruined my favorite song,
the one I played for you
the night we (I?)
confessed.

You
listened to my song and said
you knew it
too.

You lied.
You're a liar.

You
crinkled the fragile paper of
my heart,
already thin from
ruined songs passed.

When I hear it now
I hear
the drumbeat in your chest
blood rushing through my ears
the breaking of a glass
staccato breath between--

Not:
Your voice
A phone call
Text
Email
LinkedIn notification.  

You
ruined my favorite song.