My Heart Is In the Back of My Throat
My Heart Is In The Back of My Throat
And it hurts
Like fucking hell
When I think she says
I need autotune
And a backing track
That everyone who told me I was a good singer
Was probably being nice
Probably joking
And laughed when I told her that I try not to sing around girls I like
Because they always seem to like me afterward, and I don’t know if they actually like me
Or my singing
I’m livid
The subtext is clear
That I’m stupid or naive
Too wrapped up in my own head I can’t hear my own recordings properly
That I’m somehow terrible despite all evidence to the contrary
I can’t tell if she is tone deaf
Or just has such a low opinion of me, she assumes I’m bad
Or simply has an extremely high bar for singers
She can’t see any of the beauty that most people see
She doesn’t get that look
That I see in people’s eyes when I sing
That focus
Like I’ve completely captured their attention
She’s not like the mean girl in class
Who smiled at me and said hi for the first time after I sang
Or the blonde girl on the bench
Who started talking to me
After she heard me sing
She wasn’t all the people who told me that they wished they knew how to sing
She’s like the girl at work
Closed off
Sitting at her desk
Grumpy
Always with headphones on
Or my friend’s ex boyfriend
Who was probably jealous
He couldn’t sing
Because he thought I was annoying
Even though my friend thought I was cool
She tells me
There is only one person
Who she liked when they sang
A girl who was her old friend
I wonder why
She is able to see the beauty in her friend’s voice
But unable to even stop herself from shutting me out
When I sing
Because out of all the people
Who I wanted to share this beautiful thing with
The one I wanted to pour my heart out to
The one I wanted to look at me in that way
When I sang
Focused
Entranced
Like in a spell
Was her
And my heart is telling me
She will never get it
She will never hear my voice for what it is