||[Apr. 5th, 2005|07:32 pm]
My guitar has two broken strings. I didn't realize until I noticed them this morning, just how long it'd been since I'd even picked the guitar up - months, at least. The paint on it is still glossy, though, chipped a little in some parts, scratches in the surface here and there.
It tells me, I was loved. I was loved, but now I'm worn, and neglected, and you try to soothe me with a cheap new string that will never be played. I can't be bought off so easily.
After I put the new strings on, I crawled into bed and slept for four more hours.