Muscle Poems

The sound of sounds carries me un-open and unready as of yet. Though, I’ll never stop the melody. Allow me to drown out the dryness of a day out in the park, of the crackling street. I want to look through the soundtrack of my own drama instead. These longings are lonely then come to want to be alone. They turn into positivism with other powerful, sensitive lonelies.

It’s hard to have a most precious thing.