music and things.
There is music in my ears. Music that calms me when my soul is ragged bringing me back to that state of calm. The one where when I hit it a shiver goes thru my entire body and I know no matter what that everything will be okay. That brings the sight of trees to my eyes and the feel of breezes against my skin.
There is music in my ears that straightens my back and exchanges my spine for one of iron. Music that makes me fierce and full of courage. That makes me yearn for the heavy panting of a horse as I ride it across a battle field urging my men to fight for king and country. That brings the clash of iron to my mind and the smell of copper.
There is music in my ears that makes me so filled with emotion that I weep. I weep for the wrongs heaped upon others, on the unfairness of the world to give some so much to deal with and others so little. Music that drives those silent tears down my cheeks.
In realtion to another thought.
Are there things I don't remember? I have such knee jerkingly strong reactions to some things; important things. That I can't help but wonder if they've happened to me and I've just repressed them or if my mind is playing tricks on me again.
Does my life really hold so little value in my eyes? The answer is yes but there's no reason behind it. I don't think I'm a bad person, I don't hate how I look or act or the things I've done. Why would there be so little to tie this soul to this body?
There is music in my ears that straightens my back and exchanges my spine for one of iron. Music that makes me fierce and full of courage. That makes me yearn for the heavy panting of a horse as I ride it across a battle field urging my men to fight for king and country. That brings the clash of iron to my mind and the smell of copper.
There is music in my ears that makes me so filled with emotion that I weep. I weep for the wrongs heaped upon others, on the unfairness of the world to give some so much to deal with and others so little. Music that drives those silent tears down my cheeks.
In realtion to another thought.
Are there things I don't remember? I have such knee jerkingly strong reactions to some things; important things. That I can't help but wonder if they've happened to me and I've just repressed them or if my mind is playing tricks on me again.
Does my life really hold so little value in my eyes? The answer is yes but there's no reason behind it. I don't think I'm a bad person, I don't hate how I look or act or the things I've done. Why would there be so little to tie this soul to this body?