music is many things
it is invisible
untangible
nonexistent
but so powerful
coursing through your veins with every
beat
with every
measure
emotions, spilling through the air
butterflies, soaring through your soul
it's aggressive and loving
it's violent and gentle
it's painful and soothing
it's hideous and beautiful
it's me
it's you
it's all of us
music is
we are
seperate
unique
alone
but one.

it's 11:45 pm
and you're sitting on your bed
your newly cut hair pulled back
and your first experience with fringe
occasionally dancing over your eyelids
the sounds of a tv and your mother teaching herself the clarinet
make it hard to concentrate
on the thoughts in your head
but your inner organs tell you all you need to know
your stomach flutters with a thousand monarchs
your heart soars
and your knees are weak
and you're not sure how you're going to recover
but that's okay
because maybe you don't want to

say what you mean
mean what you say

use your words to confuse
although i try my best to understand
you try your best to prevent that

its difficult to know how someone feels
when their emotions have been twisted and contorted to fit into a verse

manipulation through words is bittersweet
allude to what you want and how you want it
but never come out and say it
cowardly or brilliant

its perplexing to wonder if someone methodically goes about writing their poems
hoping the reader will hang on every line
ponder about the choice in every word

will the poet effectively convey their message?
is that even their wish?

i hate asking questions i know will never be answered
but i refuse to stop investigating
i must examine all the things

so here i sit
my eyes moving left to right
line to line
verse to verse
stanza to stanza

and i hope
i hope that i comprehend
i hope that i can appreciate
i hope that i have received your message

i just hope the message was for me