I have no idea where this came from. I started writing and this just kind of created itself. The Unbreaking She will not look, Refuses to see; Only knowing what is beneath whispering fingertips, Those beautiful black and white keys. Out of her heart pours music, Filling the room to the brim And drowning out the unfeeling silence. It tells of all emotions, Hidden underneath fragile skin; Of hopes fallen, The dreams shattered. Of when she so desperately Tried to glue them together. When the song was broken, She’d walked the line Choosing everything short of suicide. Slipping on cruel words of a treacherous world, Breaking through a net of thin spider’s string And onto a lake of hateful, broken ice. Her feet opened on the shards like knives, The sky her reflection with a blood-faced moon. Tears of glass streak down her face, Her never-ending scars. The lake behind her, She trod a road named Distress, Littered with corpses of memories long forgotten. Until, she came across a sign that read; “Break the cycle of pain, Go down a trail you’ve never seen, For not every heart is empty, Every wing does not have to be broken.” So down the way she traveled, Finding the room that in which she now dwells, Playing out the song of her pain So that she may write a new song.