Audible Emotion

Pluck my heart like strings, and strum me a fine tune.
My eyes are wrought of steel and I cannot move: I can only see outward.
You cannot embrace that which is burdensome—no, that has been my duty.
Drums beat a storm.
Hearts beat and I cannot hear my own.
Remind me to rewind the movie soon, so I can watch how this happened to happen.
And get me some more misfortune at the store, will you please?
And so it begins.
They are gone and that’s not my hand she’s holding.
“Who what where when why how—”
Can this be?
I am a bad rhythm but I’d rather be that than no rhythm.
Lines of words like rails of crosses I tread alone upon.
My hand yet is still empty.
If your head is in the clouds, mine is in the sinking sea.
Yet both those can only go so far.
Lips collide, and I am the street light above them in the park.
I become the grass they stand on, and I share the air they breathe.
I am the bed sheets, and last I am the mirror on the wall and it shatters.
My eyes fade, and I am steel-eyed once again.
Home is not meant to run from you.
But I am a trance—
Within a panorama of my life made into cinema—
I am the rewind button that cannot stop playing.