Poetry by adelinefecker
I will not let you write your own melody over my silence.
Your notes are wrong.
Your rhythm- a fantasy.
You play symphonies over your destruction,
you conduct orchestras to drown out your emotions,
you compose a gavotte called “perfect”.
And when someone’s bow slips or they step on the wrong beat you make them
I wish I never met you
I let your song entangle me,
became so attached I nearly died when you left me in the cold. Waved your wand and stopped the music.
I will not let you write your own melody over my silence,
now I dance to my own beat.
Composed an aria unbeatable in its triumph.
A song far more interesting and multifaceted than yours will ever be.
I will sell out every venue in this city until everyone can hum its tune.
Then I'll be free of you.