Antiseptic smell A scream there A wail here A moan there A wince here A stop here A pause there
"How are you?" Fill the air White coats Jogging through the rooms Sometimes replies come in the negative Other times the positive ones drop Some lost, some survive
Next time your neighbor screams "Do you know who I am" Lead him to the place filled with painful moans Guide him to the tombs of those who have mastered the arts of not feeling anything Remind him that he is just A time bomb waiting to explode
I'm not a person; I'm a piece of music that you found while shuffling through tracks after your first heartbreak.
with a heart drunk on betrayal, you hit the next button countless times before you came across me and I told you that he was cruel and you deserve better; assured you that girls like you, tend to cry for guys like him, for once and then never— you never fall for them again.
for days to come, on lonesome twilights, I sat next to you when you plugged in your entangled earphones, and thought about him; you were always on the verge of breaking down when I whispered across your insides, and held you together; you felt free and strong, you felt like a lady of dignity that you should be, and I reinstated the same over and over.
all you ever had to do, was play me on repeat.
then came the day, when you were finally over him; you became a wayward, bohemian yet again ready to take the wind in your hair, on highways stretching and disappearing into the skyline; and as you should've, you forsook me; I lost my track in the happy tracks of your myriad playlists, and you never listened to me again on haunting nights, nor on delusional day breaks.
I went back to the unseen abyss whence I came, waiting for the day you'd have your second heartbreak and you'd, maybe, come across me, and I'd be there to remind you of the woman that you should be behind your blurry tears.
I'm not a person; I'm a piece of music, not meant for festivities, not for carefree drives, or happy slumbers, but melancholic music, for times when you're heartbroken; I soak in your pain, until I can, and when you feel full life again, you can forget me, but I never, forget you.