Choke

I hope that in every note you sing and every chord you strum, long after your voice has cracked and your hands have withered, you hear the harmony I once tried so desperately to match — a song you never learned to listen to.

I hope that the ghost of my voice weaves itself into the strings beneath your fingers, slipping through the cracks of every girl you play for and every silent room, until you can no longer tell where your music ends and my memory begins.

And may every shade of green, from the first bloom of spring to the dying leaves of autumn, shatter you with the echo of my eyes — eyes that saw a future you never had the courage to step into.

May you carry the weight of what you destroyed across the infinite span of your days, until even the stars above forget your name — but still, somehow, remember mine.