I’ve never heard silence,
I’ve never felt the brightness dim,
or my folded knees find its place
or my fingertips slide onto the right key.
I’ve never stopped time – though I wish sometimes I could.
I’ve never felt a slow, unfamiliar,
beating heart of a stranger.
Though the thought of romance makes
me cringe,
they’re the only words that fall along
most of my pages.
I’ve never felt my shoulders fall, not too low, but low enough to still keep my head high.
No breath can finally release
the amount of fear that takes over my
corrupt mind.
I’ve never felt something that wasn’t there,
or a hand that was big enough to carry
me home,
but not all the way,
so my strength can finish the walk.
I’ve never said something right the first time
or felt proud of my every poem.
I’ve run far from my unimpeachable,
childlike mind that once made me believe that the world was an unending dream.
But one thing I have felt was an escape.
Beneath my pen,
an endless tune without lyrics seems to play the right keys.
The night lasts a day
as the clock begins to freeze,
and a heartbeat – not mine  –
seems to fill my ears and scream …
“Beauty!”
Yes, this is beauty.
It’s the only beauty I’ve ever heard.
It screams so loud it almost makes me deaf, but beauty never felt so good.
The escape sleeps peacefully
where the unfeasible is possible,
and is woken by music and written words.
I’d wrap this world into my hands and
climb up the highest tree
or sail farther than life has ever reached
to keep this delicate gift comforted
in my palms
so it can be touched by only me.
It’s the only beauty I’ve ever heard.
It screams so loud it almost makes me deaf, but beauty never felt so good.