Her melody will be heard.

Hannah Watson, Special Contributor

The euphonious melody of metal on scarred hands,

the smooth wood is cutting into my collar

as the mellowness of my bow glides across strings.


In the dead of night my feet dance across the floor.

In the morning they will be chained and

blood will trickle down my face;

a torture to my mind that will only end in rot.


I need my life to glisten once more.

I want my loquacious nature back.

I’m trapped, yet desolate,

broken into silence,

broken into pieces of a girl I once knew.


My melody is trapped in the walls, savoring the sound of the unconfined.

Slipping away hour by hour,

waiting for a final goodbye.


Save me from my nyctophilia;

a twisted knife in a sleepless night.

Don’t judge me for my eleutheromania.


Give me liberty from those that trap me,

I can’t stop my mind from bleeding.

Help my melody breach the walls of my cage.


I‘m tired of fighting for things that belong to me

I once showed the world my music,

but they beat me into silence

and told the world I was dead.


They gave me a golden cage and told me it was home.

The song I created was no longer mine,

handed off to those who savored the fame.


I am a forgotten girl,

with forgotten song,

but my melody will never be taken from the world.