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Unfinished Chords

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Tonight, it’s just me, my guitar, and a blank piece of paper. The kind of night where thoughts refuse to settle and memories keep knocking at the edges of my mind, demanding to be let in. I didn’t plan on writing anything, but some nights, silence is too loud to ignore.

The strings feel familiar beneath my fingers as I strum aimlessly at first. My guitar has always been more than an instrument—it’s the only thing that understands the things I can’t say out loud. The notes start to take shape slowly, and before I know it, the words begin to surface too.

“Back for Christmas / to a home that doesn’t want me anymore…”

Funny how a single line can drag you back through time. I’ve always found it easier to pour myself into lyrics rather than talk about it. Maybe that’s why people like me turn to music—because it allows us to untangle everything we’re too afraid to confront otherwise.

The phrase “chainsmoking all I’m doing to get by…” appeared like an unwanted guest in my mind. I scribbled it down. A little rough around the edges, maybe too raw, but honest. I’m not saying it’s healthy, but it’s real. Sometimes, that’s all a song needs to be.

I glance back at the paper, now a mess of smudged words and cross-outs. I’m scribbling faster now, chasing an idea I can’t let slip away. It’s like trying to catch a shadow—one second it’s there, the next it’s gone.

“You gave me paper cuts trying to live your life…”

It’s past 2 a.m. now. The guitar hums quietly as I let the final note linger. I don’t know if the song is done—hell, I don’t know if it ever will be—but tonight, I let myself feel it. That’s a start.

“Maybe tomorrow,” I mutter to no one in particular as I push the guitar to the side and close the notebook.

But I already know… this one’s gonna keep me up for a while.

Until next time,
Kaiser

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