Snippet 2

I remember how you talked to me.
The good the bad, the overcast ugly.
The Emasculating honesty.
And an icepick tongue shooting daggers in my heart.
A sweet sound strangled and contorted surgically.
Chords pulling heart strings like an infant's first guitar.
You had me in the palm of your always lotioned, soft hand.
And you crushed me in the wake of your crisis.