Strings, strings, wrapping around porcelain skin,
For why does the bruises not show?
With a waist, hip, and two legs that are so thin,
For why does the skin always glow?
Hair that never sheds, nor grows, nor messes,
For why does the girl not wash it?
With a merry face that still never truly expresses,
For why does the face not show even a slight fit?
Stoic, conjoined, the feet never stomping,
For why does the limbs never feel frostbit?
Perhaps it is a lie that the being is a girl,
As it is only with strings that she can ever twirl.

Foundation of existence
an exponential presence.
Gravity’s graceful hand
glues us together
like wet sand.
Presses us into spheres and
let’s us fall where we may.

Molded from mud and clay
Born of the Earth and falling
along the bend of space,
lulled by the face of the sun
and dizzy by the spin of the Earth,
we fall in love
along its starry string.

The foundation of existence.
we fall and then
fall again. Dropped along
gravity’s bending string
we fall and spin
Faster and faster
Desperately searching for meaning
until.
Some part of that string to holds onto
us and calls us their own.

We fall in love.
Tying ourselves to that fleeting string
so it may stay.
So it won’t fall away.
So caught up
We glue our muddied hands
to disappearing strands.

So caught up
we lose ourselves to gravity
and fall at the speed of life
so fast we forget to slow down
and look around.
So fast that we might miss it.

Use me, play my heartstrings like they are that guitar you got in middle school and forgot about. I’m just as forgettable. Keep me in your closet until you find the urge to clean your space and take me out to reminisce, then put me back, because I am too hard to let go, but too hard to look at because we never amounted to anything.
If you hold me long enough, maybe the desire you once had would reignite and we could learn the love songs that you wanted to sing. But you don’t hold me for long, you pluck at my strings a few times out of nostalgia, and place me back into hiding.

His heart is
Like an old piano
He waits under the dust
Quiet, lonely and shy
Until she plays him
And makes his strings vibrate.

My life resonates within the strings of A minor seventh
                                  A tone which gives me a purpose
                     And a chilling down my spine

As it echoes through my fingers
                          up my arms
                                           through my chest
                                                           ­  and into my heart
        
                                                I forget

At least, I really try to. It's been so long since I've touched a girl.
                                        I only remember
                                     how much I wanted
                         somebody to experience life with

           But
How can you experience life
               with somebody whose life has already been
                              completely changed by people you've
                                                         never met?
              
                                     Each string pulls me in closer and closer
                          to complete each set of moves just as I lean in
                     and kiss you, ever so slightly.

                                           And the burning of
                         sensitive flesh, just as if it were the first time,
                             marks the fully fleshed out chord that rings
                         between our heartstrings until only the memory
                      of such a beautiful sound
                                             is left and
                                                     never forgotten.