deepundergroundpoetry.com

Doesn't Sound the Same

I can't stop, what's there to stop?
My fingers keep moving on the strings,
Playing with a bow that cuts them off.

Blue strings aren't all that strong,
But it's okay, I knew it all along.
I play with all the sadness I carry so far.

But the strings are breaking now,
And these aren't the tears I tried not to cry,
And blue strings are just lonely blue veins.

You can't play a violin
On your arm with only a blade,
It just doesn't sound the same.
Calculating
Written by Calculating
Published
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