Euphoric solo.

Fingertips flit across the strings, palm tapping against the body percussively. I feel the sound, the vibrations, echo from the hollow of the instrument and envelope me, enraptured.

My boyfriend plays his bass and I love it. I scroll through the internet and watch other people play and I love it.

I play mine and I love it.

Then hate it.

Hate myself.

Sudden discord, post-performance static screaming at me through the amplifier. Fingers bitten raw by the strings, deep, past callouses built over obsessive habit.

I mute the sound.

Reach for it again.

I love it. Breaths timed in rhythm and syncopation.

Fuck my life. Fuck me.

Actually I feel great?

I just wanna play forever.

To play forever would be a curse.