he plays with my love
with the strings of his bow it makes such a precise sound consistently on pitch he moves his hands inch-perfect on strings each tune a new sorrow each string used more infatuated then before
i love the sound of music, especially the violin. it always makes my heart stop and sing, on the highest pitch. it feels like floating
Forgot what I searched for to find heaven.
But I know that at the age of seven I seized my mother’s phone and found a god. He led me to an arresting world with strings. Strings that swept your hair the way the wind does when your ego would reach the sparkling skies. They touched your heart no matter how heartless. I refused to blink because if I did I would miss a second of his gentle fingers gliding across the maple fretboard. And no sane person would want to miss that! Strings danced back and forth as he played a chord. Oh, his fingers grew sore, but calluses helped desensitize them from aches and pain. The instrument he mastered was waiting to call him master cause’ guitars love how he manipulates and makes them his slave. Strings begged for his touch, for sounds they could make. My eyes felt heavier than dense gym weights. I mustn’t stop gazing if I want to stay lost in heaven. So **** riveting! “School is tomorrow.” “******, I forgot.” “Give the phone back. Hmm, what are you watching?” “Heaven.” “What did you say?” “I said heaven.” Mom didn’t say anything afterward. A few hours came, she asked for the phone. I gave it to her, prepared my backpack. Maybe in a different universe. I would have proclaimed, “Don’t take the phone back.”
My first encounter with the most remarkable instrument: the guitar.
It's always you, whom I miss
It reminds me of the perfect blue on purple sky, I attach him on a beguiling lullaby retracting the memories of the sea where the strings like constellations connect us; You can never be apart from the ocean.
"You can never be apart from the ocean."
choose or be a life
puppet on a string is you unless you say not
My mind is blank
In my head, dark thoughts sank My mind is clouded Things are shrouded I can't see a thing So I begin to sing Not knowing what it shall bring I sing of spring I sing of my king I see a ring Attached to a string What does the string bring? Am I willing to take the risk I need to be brisk Shall I give my life to someone Or decline the ring from one Not knowing what the string brings ~23/3/21
I've always thought that marriage is a big risk, and if you are willing to take it for someone you must be brave.
there is a thread connecting us, you said
and i agreed but one end is tied around my heart while the other loosely circles your fingertip.
"i keep coming back to you."
And abstract A string of zeros That exists in some Strange place of its own
A puppet on a string.
Every movement Every word A mimic A rehearsal Every breath is controlled It wants to see the world It wants to be free But all the puppet can do Is hang off its string It wants to make friends It wants to be happy But it meets the string’s ends And life’s quite ****** It can see But it cannot reach It can hear But cannot speak If only it were free Then it would speak It if were free It could reach But the hands that hold it Are its own And it can’t decide When to let go…..