She plays her skin
Like a cello
Using a cold metal bow
She sways,
Back-and-forth
But this music has no beauty on show
Passion bleeds
While no words are said
For this song is purely
Instrumental
And the girl falls down
Without a sound
She doesn't make it to the recital
(Based off something I saw on Pinterest- it had no author)
YOU ARE READING
Words are Knives
Poetryperhaps night is dark to provide us less distraction from our nightmares. Ranking: #267 in Poetry #144 in Poetry
