so long did i ignore
the red flags,
i avoided hearing the music
for what it was.

perhaps,
when you’re deafened by love,
you cant hear the dismal chords.
i couldn’t hear the mismatched notes
over the melody.

through broken-down vibrato,
i learned to love your song.
i listened to you on repeat,
until i memorized its entirety.

when i would listen enough,
i could hear the imperfections.
i heard your words,
i grew to hate the music.