The songs you introduced to me -
CDs playing on repeat until they get so
scratched that the sound isn't audible
anymore. Porcupine tree and God is an Astronaut
acid rock and plain piano flood the room.
I wish you'd left me your record player
and a vinyl or two, but I understand
why you couldn't find that love in your heart.
It's been a while since I've listened
to your soul or read through the poems
written in pencil on faded grey lines of hope;
but I think you should know, I would
pay tribute to every tainted opportunity
and charred photograph we have yet to find
with each tear I am about to shed. But you -
you don't even understand that, do you?
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