You're plucking away at the strings of my heart
Like it's your very own instrument
Your guitar tuned exactly how you like it
As you play your newly created song
My strings get worn in
They're wearing through
Wearing thin
I don't know how much longer I can go like this
Your fingers play so beautifully,
but only for yourself
It's leading to my destruction
My thoughts could be your lyrics,
but would you even listen?
Doubtful.
I'll be singing until my throat bleeds.
And you'll be playing long after my strings have been ripped apart.
Long after I exist.