It is damaged
yet the strings still play when plucked
the fingers strum
all sprouting from a twisted hand
The music is troubled as it tries to form words
her Insides become out
yet it doesn't sum up the half
It was more than it was meant to be
More than what we were used to hearing
The sound contacted instantly
Something brimming of powerful moments
Those of true knowledge
which we cover with daily life
The terror of which one has lived through
wanting never again to arise and repeat
Shredded imaging, unadmitted longings, and high intensity fear
We can't live at that pitch
So every so often something shatters like ice
we fall into a river of our own existence
We are aware
because the realization is in the sound