When The Music Stops

This summer, I was supposed to write new songs.
Not a case file.

I wasn't supposed to memorize dates,
or times of death,
or names that felt heavier every time I wrote them down.

I wasn't supposed to learn how silence could be louder than music.

I wasn't supposed to do this.

But I did.

Why?

For my friend.

They told me to stop.
He told me to stop.

When he was supposed to support me through the case.

I am no detective.
I never wanted to be one
.
My only dream was to be a composer.
A singer.

To write songs, not statements.
To chase melodies, not killers.

But maybe that was too much to ask.

But here I am, waiting for the final note,
for the music to stop.
When it does, so will I.