broken music.

your voice is a melody to my once broken ears

when you say my name my lungs fill with butterflies

for one second my mind slips out of all fear

it’s not the way you say my name or how

it’s the fact for one second i was the only thing your mind allowed

your hands fit perfectly around my waist

like they were molded by an angel. our eyes lock and our hands interlaced so deep we don’t need to give it a label

you stuck your flowers in my wounds so that my scars would grow back beautifully

it hurt so much more when you ripped them out of my chest so brutally

your flowers wilted away over time

you thought you could save what i was dealing with inside

maybe you could save me from myself

but when you got the dreaded call around twelve you knew my fate was written in stone with flowers on the side

the sound of your voice is now amplified in my tomb but it’s still a melody to my once again broken ears.