alone
i sit in my room
bitterly, like spoiled milk
there is no one
just me
silence
until
one
single
voice
BREAKS the silence
whispering, confiding, talking, giggling, yelling, jumping, musically rising and falling
a tiny smile creeps across my face
it begins in one corner of my mouth
the sour lemon taste of it makes my lips curl up
and I Laugh.
other voices join in the clamor
ascending the stairway to my lonely abode
bringing me out of my silence
waking my soul
with bittersweet chocolate
and i drop my pencil
I stand Up
but i cannot remain standing for there is too much to do
i stay busy, my mind always leaping from one thing to the next, in intervals, but they are good things, and i cannot forget them, and i am full of sugar and my head is buzzing, and i like doing things, and being with people, because then i do not have to give in to the silence i find otherwise
the music of the voices in my house, in my room, in my space
lifts me.
it fills me with my own music
rising up in my soul
I sing
long notes short staccato jazz riffs like the ballads the piano invites
the voices in the background slowly fade away
they are no longer there, and i am alone
again
in the silence
but now
the quiet is not so empty
there is a new melody
a melody of my creation
it echoes the others but is filled
with something new. It tells
a story.
The story is not happy but it is not
sad.
The story is true.
The music fills the room.
and i smile
a gentle
sweet
genuine
GRIN
with the marshmellow taste of harmonies
yet to be discovered.