Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2014
As quite as the room was
my thoughts began to make noise
as my thoughts and actions took
each other by hand and hand
the symphonic, bittersweet harmony
arose from my thoughts and onto my skin
colliding with a blade of steel like a
horse-hair stringed bow to the copper
wire on a delicately crafted violin
getting louder and louder, the scene does,
with every vigorous sawing motion of hand and tears streaming,
the symphony came to a stop with one
sharp note and a crooked smile.
She rest with corrupt joy as a reward for all of the hard work done; as
the notes were written down-- not on paper,
but on skin.
Milyan McKissack
Written by
Milyan McKissack
Please log in to view and add comments on poems