The strings she plays

Stroking the strings of my heart

She plays a familiar tune

The melody that plays on the pulse

That echoes enchanted in the chambers

As the strings are pulled for extraction

I feel what I have not known enough

I’m strung on a note that is deep

That dives with the pitch of my chest

As I’m dazed by the doses of dopamine

and Oxytocin is inhaled with my breath

These strings are pulled out my back

and are placed in her hand that is free

So with one hand she strokes on the strings

Playing the tune of my pulse

and the other she pulls on my back

So I move like the fool I’ve become

And I dance to the tune of my heart

And I move with the motions of her fingers

Am I real? Or am I just a toy?

Or am I just what she plays for the play?

Is my heart just something to be struck?

So that tunes are written for the ears?

Am I just the puppet for the plays?

Played for the eyes of the masses

I’m tired of the ploys that are played

I will not be played on any more

I’ve locked my heart and I’ve cut -

The strings that protrude from my spine

and as my back heals, I long for her touch

I yearn her song every day

and yet I laugh that I have my own motions

and I have

no strings

on me

For true love is when she comes to the guards

that are placed at the gates of my heart

and she pulls the right strings for the pass

and enters with the softest of steps

And her hand strokes the walls of the chambers

and passes over every scar and every ache

she knows that mending takes time

and patience will aide her as she mends

Will this be love? Hard to tell

All I know is I relish at the thought

That I will be the home she was seeking

and she will be the dweller I have longed

By Samay Ahadi