Music is like listening to the wind roar.

It is the passion of the rhythmic pound of a heart,

The burst of colours after an explosion across the sky,

The twist and turn of wild hair,

And a terrible laugh.

When the needle lifts,

Glittering,

Dark vinyl spinning,

Spinning,

The quiet rush of static––

Like the anxious, electrified air before a thunderstorm––

And there:

Music blasts,

BLASTS

Through and fills the room with honey

And shrieking, rainbow glass.

An energy so high and sweet,

Makes you feel like you can crush worlds

With your boot,

And kick through dimensions.

The type of love for an existence

You know nothing about,

A child-like wonder so that every time,

Nothing is the same.

And you wonder

How something as simple as

Music...

Can make everything seem

A little brighter,

A little more wicked,

A little bit fun.