her name was a song and all i wanted to do was listen to it on repeat.
she had a smile like sunshine on the darkest day,
and i loved her.
she enjoyed listening to music that was soft and sweet, and i enjoyed listening to her speak.
i had seen every side of her, but could only focus on the best ones.
there is something lovely but so ignorant in blind love.
i thought of her as a melody that could brighten any dreaded day.
that was before i killed her.
a beloved vinyl record falling from the wall and shattering onto the floor at my feet.
i told everyone that heard me speak of her that she had physically died, and the blame was on myself.
i was lying.
you can live without being alive.
the cheery tune turned melancholy.
it was because of me.
ripping every single petal off of a flower, and tossing it to the ground.
i want to say i'm sorry, but it no longer matters.
a mutual friend brought up the lyrics, and i cried.
those lyrics mean nothing positive to me anymore, but i used to love them.