Tone and Timbre

I need someone to help me to forget her
Name, her voice, her eyes, that face
Hell, it’s not that bad, thanks for the memories
Something for the cold nights
And yet, it’s the memories that burn darker
Than fears and nightmares
That scar and seep into my waking mind
Warping and judging, placing such weight
On the tone and timbre of her voice
Her inflection, and jokes don’t carry as well
When you break them down for meaning
She’s an addiction and in the deepest throes
The worst part of all of it is
Everytime I speak to her I write a fucking sonnet

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