i sit in my room

bitterly, like spoiled milk

there is no one

 

just me

 

silence

 

until

one

single

voice

BREAKS the silence

whispering, confiding, talking, giggling, yelling, jumping, musically rising and falling

a tiny smile creeps across my face

it begins in one corner of my mouth

the sour lemon taste of it makes my lips curl up

and I Laugh.

other voices join in the clamor

ascending the stairway to my lonely abode

bringing me out of my silence

waking my soul

with bittersweet chocolate

and i drop my pencil

I stand Up

but i cannot remain standing for there is too much to do

i stay busy, my mind always leaping from one thing to the next, in intervals, but they are good things, and i cannot forget them, and i am full of sugar and my head is buzzing, and i like doing things, and being with people, because then i do not have to give in to the silence i find otherwise

the music of the voices in my house, in my room, in my space

lifts me. 

it fills me with my own music

rising up in my soul

I sing

long notes short staccato jazz riffs like the ballads the piano invites

the voices in the background slowly fade away

they are no longer there, and i am alone

again

in the silence

 

but now

the quiet is not so empty

there is a new melody

a melody of my creation

it echoes the others but is filled

with something new. It tells

a story. 

The story is not happy but it is not

sad. 

The story is true.

The music fills the room. 

and i smile

a gentle

sweet

genuine

GRIN

with the marshmellow taste of harmonies

yet to be discovered.