Music. Again.

Music hurts. Opens doors without knocking. Breaks barricades. Rains down merciless. Grasps the past and pulls it in front of your eyes, bleeding, trembling.

Music hurts. Soothes soft layers of sorrow over your body. Sleek, yielding, treacherous with assurance. Envelops you with tenderness that you worked so hard to abandon.

Music hurts. Fills you up, bursting, aching, screaming with echoing emptiness. As an invitation, unavoidable, unreachable. Raw with agonizingly unfulfilled prospects.