I can't remember the last time I wrote a song.
Actually, I can.
It was the day my life went dark- July 27th.
When I got home that day,
I locked myself in my room,
and cried as my heart broke into a thousand pieces and I penned the words to my last song.
The words used to come to me so easily,
and I couldn't write the melodies down fast enough.
And now, my guitar is getting dusty,
sitting in the case on the floor by the wall,
because playing makes me think of him.
It makes me think of how he promised to teach me that song.
It makes me think of how he told me I should've played something at the talent show.
It makes me think of when he asked me to lead Oceans that night on the beach.
It makes me think of walking into the community room and hearing him play.
It makes me think of the two of us playing together.
It makes me think of him playing my guitar after we got home.
But it also brings back the memories that filled my heart and my life with pain.
So now I'm trying to learn the bass,
knowing I have no memories to hold me back.
