Melodies.

On This Guitar

I play, the strings, as they come to life.
Speaking, whispering, chanting.
The notes echoes deep sentiments.
Words form up, as they slip, from my lips.
Vibrations of waves, crying.
Fills the stagnant air.
Ripples of emotions.
Stages of concentration.

Then they break.
Into nonsensical thoughts.
Verses that refuse to find the chorus.
Lines reduced to words.
Stopping. Waiting. For the next train.
A heartache of sorts.
Or another joyous day.

It comes back, quickly, slowly, some way.
And links together nicely.
I find it all too easily.
Too easy, it scares me.
Too easy, it haunts me.

As a stirring awakens an inner demon.
A demon from the past.
Puts the words in place.
Melodies on this guitar.
Play in unwanted unison.

Melodies that plagued.
Melodies unwanted.