Sometimes I listen to music...

Sometimes I listen to music in school and sometimes music is tearing me to shreds in my bedroom. Between the music and the mystery, how can I keep up? I want to know why you said such things that tear me down at late hours. What gave you the right to look at my heart? To inspect and feel and tear it all apart? One million miles away and you can understand the cries of a selfish creative living under heaps of heartache? 

Sometimes I listen to music in my bedroom and sometimes music makes me stare at the exposed ceiling in between painted tiles. Between the music and the misery, how can I continue? You effortlessly get me into your world from the un-comfort of my school desk, yet you're unaware of my journey. You colour my thoughts and ideas and heart until it becomes your most dull gallery piece. I love the way it all reaches toward me and the sounds break me down on the bus in the early morning. Your most guttural cries for my most lonely of times.

  Sometimes I listen to music.