Faded Song

I sat at a corner, my head on a friend’s shoulder,
a person between us, separating us for a time being.
I hear your voice echo inside the room:
a song you sing, a song that used to be for me.
A song that was me. A song that used to be us.
As the words fade from your lips,
the picture of us flashes before me.
A picture of us together.
You and me as one.
As your voice fades, I see the now. The future.
Not us. No you and me.
Just you. Just me. But no us.
You living you life without me. Happy.
Me barely surviving alone without you. Miserable.
The words echo. The tune screeches.
The song fades.
You sing the song. The song that was me.
A song that used to make me happy.
That used to make me fall in love.
So the pain begins as the music fades:
my heart stops beating as my mind starts thinking.
There goes the song. The song that used to be me.
The song that used to be us. The song that used to be our love.
Now the song spells a different story.
A different name. A different face.
The song that used to be me has faded.
The song that was us has ended.
My words remain, but my melody has ended a long time ago.
I was the song. Was.
Someone else is your voice. Someone else is your song.
Someone else is your melody.
I am reduced to nothing but mere words.
Words of a poetry that is meant for no one.
Words of a song that no one will sing.
A song that will never have a melody.
A song that no one will sing.
A song that will fade before it begins.
And the pain begins as our music fades