Dusty Butterflies

Melodies of earlier days sadden my already tender heart, as each familiar reminiscent note surfaces old feelings and dusty, cob-webbed butterflies from the darkened pits of my stomach.

Although these dusty, cob-webbed butterflies make me sneeze, they are far better than the hollow void that bleeds evermore.

Each and every nostalgic melody hangs onto my senses, singing a song of young fervor, goodbyes and broken hearts.

But the air hums a new song, singing of confession, uncertainty and relationship malfunction.

Nothing can compare to the incredible songs you once played for me, that once played over and over in my heart.

I hope you are well. I know I'm not.

Now how is that for karma ;)