I met you and we collided, hearts beating to the same metronome, half note flutters, then the crescendo of emotions.
Catchy hooks, sweet samples, a melody paired with poetic bridges.
Brief interludes which deserved full composition.
Then one day the quarter notes and eighths took us to a higher octave.
When all of a sudden our symphony showed a complete lack of composition.
Our instruments not properly tuned and practice and study seemed to be overlooked.
The timing was off.
Windpipes not sustainable, diaphragm weak.
Ambroucher not executed.
So the falsettos sounded a bit washed, the decrescendo a bit sporadic, and then stringing together this run…
I gave up my seat so you didn’t have to stand and wait for me to sing the perfect tune and run you in circles.
Now one of us sit here alone the other nowhere left but to exit.