Tristan Kai Taylors
The Musician
I wanted you to tell only me when you were hurting instead of anyone else.
The truth is burned into my eyes what are you, immobilized by silence, thinking?
I don't need a reason If only you return her to me.
Tristan was in music class. His favorite class of the day. When ever the teacher was out, he'd take charge of the class. But it wasn't only the fact that he was able to take charge of the class, but he was able to do what he loved. Play music for an hour or so. Tristan smiled as he took a guitar and walked to the back of the large classroom. The class was so big, it was like a little theater. Made sense since they would play a couple of mini concerts there once in a while. Tristan looked down to the bottom of the class, the teacher was teaching something about beats and counts.
Tristan smiled as he started to play the guitar. First, a soft lullaby, then he speed it up and started to play a a more upbeat tempo. Tristan nodded his head up and down as he played, but he stopped when he heard the teacher clear his throat signaling that he should be a little more quiet. Tristan chuckled, feeling a little guilty since he wasn't paying much attention, then put the guitar away. Right when he did, the bell rang. finally, lunch. Tristan grabbed his bag and walked to the front of the class. He was going to use the sound proof class, sound system, and the array of instruments for his next song.
It was a good thing that Tristan had lunch after his music class. That meant that he could use the room for his actual class time, and until lunch was over. Tristan smiled and walked ove to the drums. He played a couple beats on the snare alone. He stopped, adjusted himself on the drum set and added the snare beat, with the high top, and the bass. Tristan stopped after a couple minutes of playing the same beat over and over. Bass, bass, snare, snare, bass, snare, bass, snare. He liked this room, he was never disturbed because it was sound proof. The only time he would be disturbed was when someone was looking for the music teacher.
How much more are you who have become nothing?
Hurting than me who has been left behind.
Although nothing had started yet.
Although I still hadn't said these words to you.
Somewhere