What I Wish I Knew Before the Last Note

I thought a song was endless,

That its echoes would outlive the hands

That first shaped its trembling chords.

But silence is a thief,

Stealing the last note before it learns to rest.

If I had known music could vanish,

I would have listened harder,

traced each vibration with my breath,

held the weight of every lingering pause

Like it was the voice of god.

But I mistook Forever for a chorus.

And let the melody slip.

Between the spaces, I left unsung.

Now, only quiet remains—

A hollow room where sound once lived,

Where ghosts hum a tune I no longer remember.