Her life seems to be a sad song stuck on repeat with no catchy tune to sing along to.

She wanted someone else in her life, to fulfill it and harmonize with her.

She sat in her pitch black room, tears streaking her face with a line of light, bringing harmony to the line of sight.

The silence measures in BPM what a sopprano cannot.

Her tune is cut short by the indifferent silence left after the last lingering note ends.

Now only a silent note plays as the remains of the last song linger in the air.

Every note forgotten, and every bit of lyric forever left unsung and its betas long lost.

No one sang any more and no tunes were played. 

Was it just an illusion?

Had i mistaken you for someone else?

The time that's ticking plays uncomfortable rhythms down my flesh.