the untrained ear, cannot hear 

the low incessant plucking 

of the thick metallic stings.

it gives depth to a sea of notes 

and dances along your skin 

wrapping you in the comfort of song,

where you feel like you belong. 

aged 8, dried tears and bitten nails

the large, heavy frame and woven strap 

taught that with downfalls

one can create something 

beautiful. 

memories hold fond times

the instrument, taller than me 

would trail by my side 

as i took a bus ride. 

24 stops away, to go and play

the sound reverberates throughout 

the halls, i stand proud, 

in front of the crowd and smile 

you helped me create something 

beautiful.

black fades to blue 

my fingers, never too nimble 

across the  fretboard 

and my fingers ran swiftly 

on their own accord. 

i find you really 

beautiful 

and i will never forget. 

a/n: Used to play the bass, I was taught informally by my uncle, since I was 8 because I couldn't grasp the acoustic guitar. I haven't played in about a year or two because I couldn't get lessons anymore. I really miss it.