poetry

Guitar String

Only moments seemed to pass

since I was torn from plastic home.

You stretched me out, tied me down

pulled me thin, until I sang.

My moments were your weeks

I practiced just like you.

Though I tried

flexibility became elusive—

—I snapped.

Breaking free of my binding

I lashed out.

Now coiled in the trash

five fellows and I buried

with broken song.

I see you

rip apart

fresh plastic

pull from naive safety

your next victim.

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