Loud and Clear.

These are the sounds of a loneliness so profound it sinks into itself and creates a music all its own. Separate from the harmony of its equals, devouring the fairest notes of each sidelong composition. My senses are so attuned to this that it settles on top of the scenery, and I gain a crisp but altered view of the way things are and were, glimpsing the hindsight that has settled over this treacherous landscape of my own creation. There was a time these sounds united the images of mine and yours; a recurring soundtrack of unspoken truths, falsehoods and bittersweet memories. I blanche and blister at the fire inspired by such passionate calamity. And it’s true I feel an edge of remorse, of longing, of loss, as I recall the sensory background of your presence that is all I can bear to remember. The pages on which these hymns to failure were inscribed, always in discord but struggling into a turbulent cacophony, now heat, fray, and finally turn to ash beneath my only reminder of the moments you were fair enough to make me believe. I turn into, and look around, but all I find are the lies and hurts, so inconsequential in the face of the beautiful formations they create. Digging, destroying pile after pile, I find only the dust of what was left, of who you were, which was settled on top and which I begged to ignore. But a simple replay is all I need to hear to know that my forced instrumentation of this discord was not enough to keep it afloat without the buoyancy of your state. Never before attuned to the undercurrent of your conductions, I see the blindness inspired by such glaring noise, and the difference is apparent; without your trilling influence, your heightened imagery of the places where you exist, none of it is real for me. The final notes of this symphony may endlessly ring in my ears, tied as they may be to the brief flutter of your will by which I was altered, but the music of the places I will be will grow to drown out the painful strumming of what you left behind.I