“I think there’s something wrong with you and that’s okay,” she sings with all her heart
and strums the guitar with my pick.
I’m in charge of the chords,
holding the guitar so
she can reach it where she sits.
We dream it up together, but
I phone it in
I admit.
A, D, E - 1, 4, 5 -
arbitrarily chose.
She keeps it alive with her prose
Just 5 years old
A poet with her eyes closed.
You can be anything you want to be, and that’s okay as long as you’re happy.
Like she knows
The greatest longings of the whole of humanity,
Like she’s peered into the depths of the vast ocean of broken hearts,
And know this is the best place to start…
Like it’s easy.
“It’s okay”, she sings with closed eyes,
and strums the guitar in musical bliss.
And it is. For that moment. For a heartbeat.
It is.
