WK1: Split (0-0) VS. Malachi (0-0) [SPLIT WINS, 6-0.]

[Split]

Three places I never thought I'd catch myself,
Beside hospital beds, concert halls or hiding lies in farewells,
Distractions- I faltered but I believe time'll tell-
Every blip, chips diminished, stand, think I never will,
Between folded hands- written note on hands, soft as daffodils-
"you couldn't understand how i lost myself"

Dressed to the nines, headliner- violin recital,
Moonlight Sonata, c-minor sudden and unbridled,
Singing strings of tones with loving timing,
Red tresses, white skin, a contrast so enticing...
Taken back, beauty's just a likeness reproduced,
Music speaks the truth in ways writing eludes,
Exhumed graves- decomposed composers' dearest tunes
Searing runes resumed after centuries of interlude-

Couple dates- words, sounds, speak softly
speak not at all, her curtain call like pornography
in its certainty. It's all worthless, she conferred to me,
inauthentic sets of crescendos refurbished, imperfectly,
'take me somewhere new', wasteful pages of a romance paperback,
chase scenes, several lines later meets the soundtrack-
bar hop catharsis, memorable songs- not the artists.
danced for awhile, she grew bored, bumped a line quick-
But melodies descend into haunting refrains, swears,
Sight read nightmares, frayed stares, sirens blare,
With a silent croon... walls left the room in pairs.
Nosebleed in the moonshine, golden fertile crescent,
All that talent, devotion, all that mattered was the present.

Not much more than a sentence, I can't remember,
But I intend to get better- IV's beset her,
asked 'is this the end' and i said she'd live forever..
Dilated eyes reminded me of serenades and bass clefs,
Forsaken odes to sameness, create or recreate-
But the song in my head replays, resets, replays
Every day in a way writing cannot relate.
She left me with just ephemeral melodies.