I've got a crayon in my hand,
a color for every lost syllable
There's a brightly scribbled drawing
to make my mouth and head reconcilable

If life was music,
then we’d be the words.
Capturing every nuance,
in every minute of everyday.

We’d be the melody.
A piece that tunes unique.
Encompassing the lightness of flightful joy,
the strength of surety
and weight of doom and darkness.

We’d be the story.
Written by the will of the universe.
Intricately ornate...
True...
To each our eyes and hearts.
Arranged most haphazard
yet so beautiful.

We’d be a symphony.
And we will be the music...

Only to our ears.

.

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.