What does it matter,
When I sit stiff in the dark
Music pricking through my eardrums;
Every single little strum
of guitar string
or a piano note;
Swimming along through the bass clef lines
The bassist, often undiscovered
No person hearing his low, warm notes.
His name is not on any
Cover
Not even in the 'artists' thoughts.
But his every strum gets through
Accompanied by a yelp
from my throat
The swirling snail in my ear
Curls up tighter as the waves near,
Fear. Paralyzed.
in fear.
The surge. Surge of thought
No time to breathe No time to stop
No time to think No time to drop
No single remaining train of thought
To listen to the bassists' notes.
Instead, it's the dreaded screech;
Singers voice racing through
my head is too loud
But my vocal cords never loud
enough to make a pleasing sound
A belching hound.

it let the bird fly,
learn, grow, change.
but when the bird falls,
stays the same, decays,
a thrill climbs up our bones
as the crack of the wishbone
echoes in our expectant ears
like a loud, resounding gong -
as our supposed fate awaits.

"Give me the strength to live one day,
as if it summarized the entirety of my life".

I cried rivers of pain for you,
I suffered for that soul I lost,
I suffered for the same things,
Reasons we claim that weren't but ours.

I Poured some in silence
And some had their awful turns...
Why do you want to see me... ?
Like this...
Why do you love me so much?

Grave open to make me see
What Hides into the depths of your kindness.
It's all around you,
Can't you see?
Don't you hear?
What kind of love can be so bright?
What Hides into the depths of your kind silence
Speaks to me.

the bus to school is loud
but the screams of students drown out
the voices in her head
so she never minds
she puts in an earbud
and listens to music
she still feels very tired