If I Can Play My Guitar Loud Enough
It's a good guitar; All solid woods, clean lines, clear tones. I like to play real quietly, but I figure that If I can play my guitar loud enough, I won't hear my brother and my mom yelling back and forth like actors on a tv drama about the alcohol and the probation and the breakdown of communication.
If I play loud enough, I can drown out the sound of my heart punching a hole through my ribcage every time someone knocks on my door and I imagine it's those goddamn cops again, or when I remember all of the times I wasn't brave enough.
I could play so loud that I couldn't hear myself asking how the fuck I was gonna survive when I feared #life a hell of a lot more than I could ever fear death, so loud I couldn't hear all the things I see, the broken people and the endless struggle for a warm, safe place to sleep. Damn.
The violence and the panic and the fear of admitting how much you don't know, and all the people being afraid of themselves and each other- everybody guns out and backs to the walls western civilization.
Maybe, just maybe, I can play myself up a wall of sound so strong it could
keep out the apathy.
Maybe if I play long enough, someday I'll hear music.