HOME | DD

Description
III.

There's a shattered record at the end of my neighbor's driveway, cast aside with the furniture they want to throw out. Someone could make good use of those old, broken things--like how you found me. I am just a useless piece of trash you happened to pick up.

It was December, amidst the light snowfall on a slippery bridge of dreams. Bones shaking, anxious fidgeting, waiting for someone to fix me. I was a broken violin; out of tune as soon as the temperature changes and rusted easily, but I didn't know how to become a melody. Yet, I could hear you through the silence of winter. As it collaborated with serenity, your voice was the qualms of the most beautiful lullaby that made even nature envious.

"I saw someone beautiful, but very lonely in the atmosphere of love." You staggered up next to me and leaned against the rail. If it were spring, what line would you have used?

I teetered over the edge, ready to plunge head first in the freezing lake. Inch by inch, second by second. A tug on my hand pulled me back to balance on this earth. You were so warm...

You said, "You're making me n e r v o u s."

I squeezed my savior's hand; you make me n e r v o u s.

I built that bridge and scenery with pastels, but I used the smallest pieces of the black record for snowflakes; they tainted purity of the white ground. The record finally found its purpose.

Use me as you please; I don't mind. I want to be of use to you until sickened by my presence. Fix me up and break my insides--I know someday I'll be at the end of your driveway, too.

Description
III.

There's a shattered record at the end of my neighbor's driveway, cast aside with the furniture they want to throw out. Someone could make good use of those old, broken things--like how you found me. I am just a useless piece of trash you happened to pick up.

It was December, amidst the light snowfall on a slippery bridge of dreams. Bones shaking, anxious fidgeting, waiting for someone to fix me. I was a broken violin; out of tune as soon as the temperature changes and rusted easily, but I didn't know how to become a melody. Yet, I could hear you through the silence of winter. As it collaborated with serenity, your voice was the qualms of the most beautiful lullaby that made even nature envious.

"I saw someone beautiful, but very lonely in the atmosphere of love." You staggered up next to me and leaned against the rail. If it were spring, what line would you have used?

I teetered over the edge, ready to plunge head first in the freezing lake. Inch by inch, second by second. A tug on my hand pulled me back to balance on this earth. You were so warm...

You said, "You're making me n e r v o u s."

I squeezed my savior's hand; you make me n e r v o u s.

I built that bridge and scenery with pastels, but I used the smallest pieces of the black record for snowflakes; they tainted purity of the white ground. The record finally found its purpose.

Use me as you please; I don't mind. I want to be of use to you until sickened by my presence. Fix me up and break my insides--I know someday I'll be at the end of your driveway, too.