Fingers and Strings

It seems to be my only escape now.
And I love it. I know no one can take it
From me. I play every chance I get.
I'll play songs from memory.
I picked it up, feeling the
Familiar strings and neck.

I remember the feeling
Of the guitar's body, though it's been a while.
Clutching it to my body,
I began to play.
I started to play more than songs,
I made sure they felt right,
Like the warm grass with a cool
Breeze.

My fingers began to hurt, but I played anyway.
I played until my fingers bled on the strings,
I played until the sun shone through my window
And I played until my arms ached.
I played, trying not to remember the pain of yesterday,
Until I fell asleep.