Ars nova, ars subtilior (opens in new tab)

You don’t know what to say to me. You don’t know what I’ll understand. And if you do say something, you don’t know how I’ll take it. So you say nothing. You decide it’s not worth the risk. Your mood changes like moonrise over dirty latitude. You raise a blade. You tighten your grip on an edge hard as unreturned love. You didn’t expect that when I resurfaced, I’d be smiling through wet hair. You got me good there, then you got me bad. But though I blow you off, it’s all pretend. I pray for you...