Reid@YWP

Chilly hands

close to purple,

arms wrapped tight around my chest

like ribbon on a birthday gift,

pillow case gripped tight in my fist

the fist that I can barely move

as the wind flits past my shoulders,

Strings speak to me 

as no other does,

but not with words,

not in a world that is ridden

with so many words.

When I was young

it was

ugh... 

practice,

but now