Listen to It

a bitter blade's first cut
will never be its last  
a self-fulfilling prophecy  
an echo of the past  
 
its song still makes me sing  
a whisper hardly missed  
remembering the harmonies  
retaining my clenched fists  
 
there are too many broken strings  
to play another song  
still the music swells inside my walls  
it's not a question to play along  
 
I'd be more afraid if the music stopped  
what if I forget all the words?  
memories deafened through roaring silence  
unsure of melodies I'd misheard  
 
I still hear its hum inside my head  
as hard as I try to forget  
a question of whether it's now or forever  
undoubted, hard-earned regret