How can it be so unclear to her when it's like the fingers on my hand to me?

All relationships are tough. Just like with music, sometimes you have harmony and other times you have cacophony.

Needle and thread flesh and bone Spit and sinew, heartbreak is home. Your suture lines, they sparkle like diamonds Bright stars to light my confinement "Stitch.

She left for Juilliard the day after Labor Day. I drove her to the airport. She kissed me good-bye. She told me that she loved me more than life itself. Then she stepped through security. She never came back.

Once the options increase, settling on one becomes harder.

The politeness was painful. I wanted to push through it, to return to the glow of the night of the concert, but I was unsure of how to get back there.

Who says I breathe music? Who says I even breathe?