Thursday, March 7, 2013

the reasons have all run away, but the feeling never did

how great is it when you hear and begin to love a new song. you crave the taste of those notes on your lips. you learn the words and trace the outline of the lyrics with your fingertips. you keep it on repeat until you've successfully brainwashed yourself into memorizing every breathe and hiccup. when it's not around, you find the song on the edges of your thoughts and at the tip of your teeth. you speak the same language. you almost romance it.

but after a while, it begins to fade. the words become stale and the notes taste bitter on your tongue. the instruments sound like cracked knuckles and the voice bites at your eardrums. the tune is like paint drying and you can't believe there was ever a time you had enjoyed it. the notes slip away from your mouth, your mind, your memory. a quintessential decrescendo.

you are my new song.
you are my new song that needs to become my old song.
please, let me be sick of you soon.

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