skully1031

I can still feel the dirt upon my face.
It's cold, and caked.
A lasting reminder of my disgrace.

I should not have dug up this old, dead thing.
Lifeless. Useless.
Would you believe that rotted mouth could sing?

But that was a very long time ago...
It was alive...
It could strike even the highest of notes...

There's nothing left now of that beauty.
Song-less. Speechless.
The silence makes my ears want to bleed.

I think I should lay it back in it's place...
It's old...and fake.
I think now I'll wash the dirt from my face.