Sheet Music Stained with Tears

A cycle of poems «Your Melody of Heartache»

I found it tucked beneath the bed,
A crumpled page I thought I’d burned.
The ink was blurred where sorrow bled…
And every note still ached and turned.

We wrote this song on summer nights,
With coffee cups and scribbled lines.
You laughed at rhymes that weren’t quite right,
But said they sounded “like our lives.”

Your voice would rise on the high refrain,
Mine cracked with nerves, but you’d just smile.
We swore no storm could break the chain
Of melodies we made in style.

It started sweet, it built to fire -
A duet meant to never end.
But love can fade beneath the wire
Of silence, doubt, and words un-sent.

Now when I play it, hands will shake,
The chords all pull me back in time.
One breath too deep - that’s all it takes -
To feel your ghost inside each line.

This is the sheet music stained with tears,
Every barb of joy, each wound through years.
Smudged with salt from lonely nights,
Faded dreams and candlelights.
I should tear it up, let go -
But your voice still sings below.

The day you left, it rained for hours,
I played it once, then slammed the lid.
Burned the copies, killed the flowers,
Tried to erase what we had lived.

But grief doesn’t die with paper flame -
It hides in drawers and old guitar cases.
It hums your name without a claim,
In half-remembered, broken phrases.

I tried to write a brand-new tune,
One not about your fading eyes.
But every verse arrived too soon
With echoes dressed in lullabies.

Now every chorus cuts like glass,
A harmony I can’t replace.
I wear the hurt like fragile lace—
Still shaped for your embrace.

This is the sheet music stained with tears,
Every barb of joy, each wound through years.
Smudged with salt from lonely nights,
Faded dreams and candlelights.
I should tear it up, let go -
But your voice still sings below.

Maybe pain is part of art,
Maybe love must fracture first.
‘Cause even torn, this broken heart
Can turn its wounds into a verse.

So I won’t burn it. I won’t hide.
I’ll sing it loud, though voice may break.
Let every truth be amplified -
For all the love we almost made.

And if one day you hear this song,
Wherever life has led you now…
Just know I kept you all along -
Not in my arms… but in the vow
That beauty grows from what we lose…
Like music born from bitter blues.

So I lay it back upon the stand,
Press down the corners, smooth the creases.
One final look. One trembling hand.
Release the weight. And find some pieces…

Of peace. Of hope. Of who I’ve grown to be.
The song remains - but so do I.
Sheet music stained with tears…
But I’m still learning how to fly.