Strange it is
Writing music
7 octaves, 88 keys
26 letters

Creating infinite stories from finite possibilities
Marrying sounds and words
Finding friendships between sounds
And comfort in chords

Everything is better with music
Like finding an unshakable magic
Hidden between the pages of a book
Undiscovered secrets
In the crevices of your body
There's a sort of poetry in your mistakes

To replace the shame

The first listen
Is the only one that matters
Melodies forming pathways for the lyrics

So I play it over

And over

And over

Until the magic is lost.

Until the stories transform back into notes and letters,
88 keys,

7 octaves,
26 letters.