music: half of my spirit

I was high.

It was innocent, yet felt sinfully good.

Pouring from the top of my skull, through my body, down to my toes.

A golden liquid, that warmed me up better than my clothes.

The heat circulating my ribs.

The sound drowning my mind.

The vibrations quaking my heart.

The high, guarding my soul.

I was suffocating,

And yet, I'd never felt more alive.

I wanted to escape reality,

And here I was on my bed, living another life.

The symphonies wrapping me cautiously,

As if to blanket my frail body.

The synchronized shifting of beats,

caressing my most naked self.

Only you see the rawest version of me,

Only you touch the ugliest parts of me.

It's like a mirror with no view.

I can only hear

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my reflection tapping from behind the glass

And yet, I see everything so clearly through my ears,

I feel things I've never felt before, the louder the volume.

And yet, this is the only time I feel the quiet console my fears. 

She crouches down, and we share the mirror as a mutual backrest,

We don't speak, we communicate through the silence of the music,

We don't look, we see more through our open ears,

We don't move, we're stuck in time, but the melody shrouds us with plenty of patience.

Soon, the musical notes creep up the surface of my skin.

They imprint themselves on every inch.

I am a maiden of music,

Only expressing through the song's lyrics,

Only living through the tune's physics,

Music might just be half of my spirit.