my veins are the strings of a violin yearning so desperately to be played by that sharp silver bow knowing that every stroke is one more scar every cry is the music that my broken symphony of a body releases as a call a call for help, a call for safety every breath is music that my ears crave and my orchestra has just begun the drums in my chest begin to play a tune i’m way to familiar with the cymbals in my head crash with every beat my legs shake from every vibration the symphony has started i reach for my bow so i can begin i start with a tune thats comfortable eager to release my energy i play and with every stroke my symphony slows the cymbals stop crashing the drums fade and the orchestra has come to a stop i release my bow and look at what i have created i read the lines on my skin like lines of sheet music the songs of sadness have stopped and im finally at peace i know the consequences of being a composer but my art is so addicting
my mind is a sea of thoughts and you were a life raft, you kept me above, you told me youd save me but one day you decided that you didnt want to save me anymore and suddenly you became cinderblocks tied to my feet, pulling me under
you gifted me a sunflower the petals were a hue ive never seen before they had a glow brighter than the sun so i kept it and rooted it deeply in my heart i watered it and helped it grow and one day you told me you didnt love me anymore and suddenly those petals became dull and the flower began to droop i tried to water it back to life but it was no use i tried to pick it out but it was rooted too deep so there remains the sad sunflower in the deepest pit of my chest a reminder of something i no longer have you
i run and i run and i run and when i turn back shes still there i keep running but i can never escape her she knows me too well because she is me the old me but i keep running anyway and running even though i know i can never out run myself