The shape of music.

I follow the troughs and crests of voiceless music through the map of my words.

A map of my own creation,

guided my my inner beating compass.

It stretches itself out and screams while coming to a stand still.

Then, it picks up a wobbly pace- Up and down, Up and Down, Up and down, Up and down.

It builds suspense and makes turns by surprise.

The words to cluster together and up the amplitude of my message. Its shrill cry reverberates in my ears several times over.

I breathe in a new wor’d.

It whispers and caresses the ear of the one that reads it aloud.

I am the singer when I type words on a paper to voiceless music

Words course through my veins when I close my eyes. I feel the tickle.

It makes me cold, raising my hair on end.

Feel like you are the singer. Feel like you are in control.

I imagine my words walking.

I imagine it hiking.

I imagine it to be exhausted, like a human.

I imagine it to weep to cry and to have the greatest of epiphanies.

Such is the life of the mere human

Such will be the life of my words.

Write to the shape of voiceless music.