what will

What will come of those parallels
Confined in wood; chalky white linings
Bound in foam
There to encase the sounds that are made
Muffle them like an adulterous scream
and your head, in my opinion
To catch your precious mind from breaking
Just incase things get a little too crazy.
I havent been there in awhile
I haven't heard much from there either
Although I haven't been too keen on
Listening at all
Not even to torture myself
Which is what's most surprising

That summer when I met you,
When i thought I knew sound then
Wasn't until the drives and the colours
And the way you spoke;
so frustrated from your feeling
Of compassion for the notes
You showed me how I felt
Each time you let me choose the one
Of five you'd laid out
It hurt but
That's when I knew I loved you

And ive always kind of enjoyed
Torturing myself with music since then

Back again, though new parallels
And new foam
Different bodies; or at least
Mixed Into a different pattern
This time

I wonder if I will be able
To make a sound at all

I wish I could howl like
Midnight upstairs