Music

I put the music you should face on a record
and I buried it deep in the dirt
from it grew a hand
that kept me tethered to this earth

I let your voice become a vine
that overtook my garden
tangled in the thorns of roses
their petals used to kiss your cheeks

I put the music you should face on a record
that I know you never heard
I’ll hum it to myself and cry
pretty noises make it hurt

I let your voice become the echo
that came back to all my thoughts
tangled into every lesson
strangled with your knots