our love was an orchestra that
played in my lungs,
you were the conductor
and you made it felt like the
smoothest flowing
symphony.

divinity and pureness was soon rid of
and the violin strings
sprung and snapped my
throbbing heart strings.

you played me wrong.
you dropped your arms,
stopped conducting the music and
left me.
silent and aching for more melody.

you ended our song.
it was abrupt and you dropped
my instruments and
scratched my brass eyes
with salty tears.

im an empty theatre without you.
noiseless and open to silence.