When I lie in bed at night

I think about my exterior.

It’s Aspen and Gold.


I’m hollowed out

with pearled pink insides

and I know about you.


You’re the same as me

where blood and muscle and bone,

should be,

there are strings instead.


All lit up

from my head to my toes

a thousand streams of steel.


Sometimes, I get that feeling

You know it

Before a race, before Christmas, before

before, before.


I’m waiting for something unknown

whilst angels play those strings

like violinists.


It only gets violent

when something darker

sets to strumming

on my soul.