She sits at an old beat up piano, her fingers gliding over the keys. Her short brown hair falls down to her shoulders, swaying as she moves her head to the beat. Her bangs fall in front of her eyes, but she doesn't stop to move them out of the way. Her blue eyes stare at the music in front of her. She breathes with the music, like it's a part of her. She closes her eyes, no longer needing the music. Her soft, pink lips part and lets her voice spill out. The sound mixes with the piano, seemingly dancing through the air. She creates beauty, but in the walls of her own bedroom. The mere thought of her creating something good or amazing scares her. She keeps it to herself, only sharing when she forgets.
YOU ARE READING
Writing Stuffs
RandomIn all honesty, this is just some stuff I've written. There will be descriptions of people I know, small stories I've written, etc. Maybe occasionally accompanied with some of my artwork or something. I mean, I guess it's cool.
