If I could carry a tune
this would probably be
the point where I would try to write a song
about our sad excuse for a romance
and the tragic end thereof
The truth is I quit piano when I was eight
and I haven't touched an instrument since. I'm thinking
"This is why I've always like musicians." I'm thinking
"My father was a musician."
I'm thinking Freud would probably have a field day with me.
My sheets still smell like him.
I hate that
this is what I've been reduced to:
A tired cliche
With none of the creative benefits.
