I crushed my heart against a blank page.
And I watched as the bare white of the page disappeared
behind the thick layer of maroon I smeared.
I composed a symphony
that consisted of every sound that had ever resurrected a grim memory.

I sought solace in pain, it was the only constant I had ever known.
I had intended to perform this song for her.
I had hoped that she would find comfort in my pain
the way I found comfort in her rapid heart beat.
So I silently chanted what I had prepared while neatly folding the sheet.
I am sure every fold is symmetrical, just before stuffing it into my pocket.

Our eyes met and my insides collapsed as she stared into me.
I fumbled to grasp my confessions.
But once I held the creased sheet before her, stabbing me with silence
she swiftly made her way to a desk and burrowed her head in her arms.

Immediatly after lifting her head she began to scribble furiously.  
Her pen bled onto the paper
and
I watched her mind melt onto the page.
How effortless I thought.