Stillness.
Thundering heartbeats.
Fear that they will give me away-
hiding for some reason.
But will I be found?
Or is anybody looking?
I hear him nearby,
and will my heart be quiet.
Surely he must hear my anxiety.
but does he want to find me?
His steps draw near
Heartbeats crescendo,
A gasp escapes-
Wanting to be near him, but
keep my space. Oh if he
would just find me, the
risks I wouldn't have to take.
Does he hear my heart beating?
Is he here to save the day?


To be continued.....

_______________
The music ends.
Or cacophany, it is.
I-wants, He-wants-
clash like a misplaced cymbal
in a chorale. The destruction
of something sweet with a sound
of heart breaks, tears and dissent

to come.

The last note.
The only one most remember-
last kiss, last touch,
last- this ain't gon last.
Even the most beautiful of
harmonies must end. Or at
least pause.

To mourn over a broken harmony
would be to hate the beauty of music.


I carry on...looking for the perfect chord...the holder of the perfect note.