She spent her days in a constant daze with
Thoughts of hearts and hands grazing a guitar
She could no longer hear the music but
She sang his lyrics loudly from afar.
She sat and scribbled his name in notebooks
Calligraphy used to dot all the “I‘s”
Swearing to herself in dripping ink that
She loved him, though she hated their goodbyes.
She cursed each mile that lie in-between
Them and the lonely sheets that made her bed
Wishing that the music he was making
Was the music that played within her head.
She despised distance and troubling sleep
She counted days away instead of sheep.
(Alternate Ending:
She despised distance and troubling rest,
In place of a heart drums beat in her chest.)
