It might come like a blow at once
Or something built up over months
Not even turning around
When it goes
It leaves behind hope
And while you wait for it to come back to you
it has already found someone new...

She loved the cracks
The broken parts
She loved to heal,
To mend the broken hearts
She loved to speak
Words, and the unspoken ones
She loved to explore
The hidden parts of your broken soul
And she would fondly kiss
Your bruises and scars
While you looked behind repenting your past
She thanked him, to help heal another, in her heart

Music made from you,
With your voice,
Your instruments,
Are unrivaled.

Exquisite notes flow effortlessly,
Entrancing women,
To descent deeper,
And deeper in love.

Your composition style,
Is a gift inherited.
It can not be acquired.

You told me your
Ingenious father showed you
All that you know.

The casual way,
You beguiled me with
Your music, making me
Feel heaven bound.

My heart was your instrument,
Manipulating and conquering it.

Lies were your notes,
Enchanting them to
Appear truthful.

My mind the foolish audience,
Awaiting an encore,
One performance was
Never good enough.

You continuously performed,
Yet I continuously stayed.