december 7, 2020

everything could make me cry if i let it. every song is either about our love or our loss, or a song you once sang to me in better days. i remember every word.

there are days when i can't hold it in and the grief flows in the shower, in the kitchen, in the backyard, in work meetings. there are days when i am so angry with you for abandoning me that i could burn my own house down, throw cinderblocks through my own windows, overfill my own tub, all the damages you didn't get a chance to do.

every emotional soprano is me, every solo cello line, every beat drop. i wish you could feel me still.