There is music
Made of goosebumps and wide eyes;
When my mind is ragged
I breathe in the sounds
And let them smooth out the edges,
pick my thoughts
Up off the ground
Launch them high
And let them soar
Through the blankness of the clouds
Past the suffocating heat of the atmosphere
Out of unknown darkness,
And into that one place
Where they can find
The smallest bit of perfection.