The Last Song: Ode to an Idle Violin

They once made beautiful music together, until she was desperate for more.
Something much greater for her was out there—a feeling she just couldn’t ignore.

Spent years of her life playing second fiddle, moving with the symphony.
Never once did she think leaving would be her only remedy. 

But from age nine to twice as many years passed, they had grown apart from each other. 
With this crescendo building in her soul, she knew she couldn’t stay much longer.

She knew the day when she would play her last song, 
she sat center stage, under the glaring spotlight, wondering where it all went wrong. 

But it was time for her to face the music and get her life on track,
so she packed away her things then never looked back.

So this is her ode to an idle violin, laid to rest in velvet, all those years ago.
She’d found herself through composing her own poetic pieces, soon as she wasn’t afraid of letting go. 

~~~

You can find this poem in my debut poetry book If I Bare My Soul: a collection of poetry & prose available to order only on Amazon!

Sunburn

We burned brighter than the sun until the day you left—left me here with nothing but the memory of you, stinging like a sunburn. 
You were untouchable; the person I once was had so much to learn.

I craved your affection like my body craves the warmth of the sun,
so why did you have to run? 

I’ve tried to peel your ghost from my scorched skin but you were determined to leave your mark. 
You set me on fire, then left me here to burn in the dark.

So, like an insatiable itch that won’t go away, 
you haven’t left my mind to this day. 

I often ponder about what we could’ve had, 
If only I knew then, it would hurt this bad.

I shouldn’t have ignored all the warning signs, but I did. 
Can you blame me? I was only just a kid.

It took some time, but what I know now, 
is that I’ll never let another break me down.

Now here I am, a freckle-faced girl with a brand new glow,
someone I could’ve never been without the tear stains written in your name on my pillow. 

I used to see the golden sun in your eyes,
but somewhere in between tender tan lines and little white lies,

I’ve forgotten your name. 
You’re fading now, so there’s not much more to say. 

I once thought I was at the point of no return, 
thankfully the pain you caused was only temporary, much like a sunburn. 
~~~
When you’ve never experienced romance nor the heartbreak that can stem from it (thankfully!), as a writer, sometimes you have to rely on other familiar experiences, pure imagination, and some dramatics to create stories. As is the case with this poem, the idea of which was inspired entirely by an actual sunburn I obtained this summer (that I still have tan lines from). Pretty neat, right?