but the melody shifts under her tongue
a sour note surfaces out of silence
why didn’t he knock with intention
why that pause before his small offering
harmless words now gather sharper edges
the echo loops back louder than before
she replays it until it draws blood
a symphony carved from misplaced intent
each whispered moment becomes a weapon
every breath stretched into another misstep
he sleeps quietly as she dissects him
the night folds under her razor instinct
each chord he never played turns bitter
dissonance becomes the only song left
-
Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: May 17th, 2025 14:14
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: xqw, Cheeky Missy
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.