i crave the nimbility of my finger pads
w-w-whizzing across the fretboard.
it's the only thing that distracts me any more,
and it isn't even working as well as it used to.
i end up letting my thoughts wander,
and then i'm strumming the strings a little too hard,
moving my body to a slightly off rhythm,
my foot stomping a little too angrily.
i wish i'd make up my mind already.
YOU ARE READING
the remains
Poetryspontaneous poetry written while overcoming some of life's many obstacles. ❝i cried tears you'll never see, so fuck you. you can go cry me an ocean and leave me be.❞ ▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁ COLLECTION NO.1 #125 in poetry © wraiths™ 2015
