the baleful primal

i want to hold in my hands
the tidal wave of emotion
that come rushing forward
when i hear music that
strikes me.

i want to brush the visage
in the mirror with paint
so that i look like
how i see myself
inside my daydreams,
when i take notice
of the words in a song.

i must embrace the girl
who still uses music
as simple therapy;
i must clasp the girl
who sometimes cries
when she sings a song;
i must hug the girl
who uses playlists 
like a journal -

for they have all saved me
in someway.