Ally introduced me to Illenium, I listen to Alec Benjamin because Zoe mentioned him in passing, Samia sits in my library because Sean sent me one song, Jax’s tunes entered my brain through my sister’s constant humming of Victoria’s Secret, John Meyer hold a place in my heart after my mom’s numerous carpool drive jams, A good song never dies is now a regular sound because Sam pointed it out from an animatic. These songs have imprinted on my consciousness, Returned in bits and pieces throughout my days. They strum and drum and roll and cry Until I let them out Until I let them lie. Through a hum or off my tongue, Vocals spilling in the halls. All the songs I’ve loved before They sing for no applause.

I am not a stranger to the dark Even when the lights Are blinding.

Hide away, they say Even when I’m right out In the open.

We don’t want your broken parts Even if they’ve been sewn Back together.

When the sharpest words want to cut me down I’m gonna shatter them Like glass.

Gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out They are not worthy of My attention.

I am brave Even when I say I am not.

I am bruised Even when I look Okay.

I am who I’m meant to be A perfectly imperfect Human being.

I am worthy I am happy This is me.

Have you ever had that one song that brings all the memories with it, well I do. Every song I listen to has meaning to me. For example Stand Tall form Julie and the Phantoms, means that i can keep on fighting even if I’m the last on standing. Songs come in many forms and bring memories with it. I am a musician so I can listen to the words or the music behind it. Sometimes its the words I need, or its the song itself. I don’t no if that is like that for everyone but for me it is. When I sad I need sad songs. When I’m happy I need happy songs. Songs are there no matter what. No one can take them away from me. The lyrics can mean something different to the artist, but you can make them what you want them to be.

Hey boy How you doing Didn’t you think I notice you be wooing Talking your sweet talk as if it is nothing Betting it makes all the other girls blushing Hey boy What ya doing Getting closer are you feeling like pursuing I’ll admit you are easy on the eyes Lose my stance as your hand moves to my tights Hey boy What we doing You got me you know it who we fooling I feel your heat as our bodies stand alined Now come with me and let me blow ya mind

I stood in the driveway of Moira’s bungalow, with the soft but heavy rain soaking through my denim shorts and plastering my hair to my face. I was compelling me forward to her door. My chest swelled at the thought of her, my mind foggy with jealousy. Ration told me to turn around and go home, but my feet dragged me to her door, nonetheless. Before I could raise my fist to knock or lift my feet to walk away, the door swung open. She stood there, dark skinned and freshly washed, her braids wet and dripping, wearing a bathrobe and an indescribable expression. “What are you doing here?” I gazed at her through my rain streaked glasses, unable to think of a good enough answer. What was I doing there? “I...” I started, taking a step closer. I lifted my hand to her face. She stepped back. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her eyes downcast. “I’m seeing Edward now.” My hand fell. “I know. And you shouldn’t be.” Her eyes flicked back up to lock with mine. I took another step forward and she didn’t step back. Another step, and I could feel the fluff of her robe against my damp top. I raised my hand again, to hold her face and her lips moved to form a word, but I didn’t get to hear it, because suddenly, I was kissing her. She quickly had a hand in my hair and the other on my neck. I kissed her feverishly as her hand travelled lower to cup my breast. All apprehension seemed to have left her body, but it had soon entered mine. I pulled away. “I’m sorry I can’t do this,” I mumbled, stepping back. She looked dumbfounded. “You came here... you kissed me...” “I know,” I rushed, “and I shouldn’t have. When I heard about you with Edward, all I could think about was how I didn’t want you to be with anyone else, but now that I’m here... I just can’t get over what you did.” She closed her eyes. “I can’t keep saying I’m sorry, Sam.” “I know.” “So what do you want from me?!” She snapped. “I guess... I want you to hurt as much as I do.”

heaven did not deserve you

so when the sky parted and you fell into my arms your lightness met the darkness inside me and we saved each others souls

You left me here House filled with fear Separated by a wall of tears

What will I do I Can’t afford food Can’t always Wear torn shoes

BUT YOU DONT EVEN CARE! It’s just not fair Can’t afford to share New things are rare

The person I loved Was stolen away And replaced by you Will never see you again

This child needs love But I’m the only one around Have to act like nothings wrong Believe me it’s hard.

Well I will be the strongest that he ever knew I will be there when he needs a love strong enough Because you are so careless

How do I teach a child love When I’m still learning it myself I’ll have to be strong And we’ll leave you alone.

Hmmm... the most recent song I played? You ask a difficult question. I haven’t been able to play- or even listen to- music in months. Not since the bombs fell. Life hasn’t been normal since. Even mothers don’t sing lullabies to their children anymore. It seems inappropriately jovial. Anything that doesn’t directly aid in survival has fallen out of use.

Come to think of it, I think the last song I heard might have been a rock song. Something that made me feel like I could take on the world... and then I had to. Well, what was left of it anyway. If a location hadn’t been reduced to a crater, there were people suffering there. Burns. Missing limbs. I was lucky enough that my hearing and sight came back within a few hours of the blasts. And that I wasn’t thrown into scaffolding and left paralysed like my neighbour Mrs Norbert. Maybe the last song I played was actually a jazz tune? On Mrs Norbert’s ancient jukebox. She said it reminded her of better days. I wish I had an escape like that now...

Since I’m trained as a first responder, I’ve barely had time to yawn in the morning before someone is calling for my help. When I struggle to sleep at night (when I get the chance to sleep, that is) I count patients, not sheep. Everyone’s psyche has become wracked with paranoia. If there’s a paper cut there’s a chance they’ll end up like their bunk mate whose arm I had to amputate due to infection. If there’s a woman going into labour her crying can be drowned out by that of the father, who wishes his child will not be born into this world. A world without music.

Things may start to fall into place again. Leaders have been elected and those with the right experience and qualifications are reestablishing communications with other survivors in far away places. Crime is essentially a thing of the past: nobody really has anything left to steal (unless you count the communal can-opener) and everyone is on the same socio-economic level. Land that is still viable has been turned into farms. Every person has their role to play and they are paid in kind- I’ll patch up your wound if you patch up my winter coat. At least the bombs weren’t radioactive, otherwise I’d need a nuclear winter coat...

Okay that joke was pretty bad, but you have to learn to make light of the situation. It’s a regular occurrence that someone will ask an amputee if they can “lend them a hand” or a newly blind person to help them look for firewood. We laugh it off.

Because we only have one another in this strange new world. Perhaps one day even super perky pop songs will make a return, but until then, we make do. In fact, I think someone found a piano yesterday. I hope that the ivory keys are foreshadowing a brighter future...

There is not enough rain in Oklahoma to wash the sins out of that house. Her mom is a angle in the ground. Her dad later there passed out on the couch. She heard the sirens screaming out. Some people call it taken shelter she called it sweet revenge. There is not enough wind in Oklahoma to rip the nails out of the past. Every brick every board every slamming door blown away. Every tear soaked whiskey memory blown away. Till there is nothing left standing nothing left of yesterday.

She was sitting there in her car riding on the highway thinking. She thought Life is a Highway and I wanna ride it all night long. She learned how life is important and it is like a highway. So Life is a highway and this time she believed it!