Mon, 10/20/2014 - 22:59 -- mg7read

i sit in my room

bitterly, like spoiled milk

there is no one


just me








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


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


The story is true.

The music fills the room. 

and i smile

a gentle




with the marshmellow taste of harmonies

yet to be discovered. 


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