Piano

You know those thoughts in your head that you can't verbalize? The ones that twist you're tongue when asked: how do you feel about it?

Well, I do. I know all too well how deceitful and twisted thoughts can become. Most of the time I'm fine. Nothing drastic has happened upon me in some time; but maybe that's the problem. I long for an explanation to my feelings; a canvas on which to draw. And yet I'm not artistic, at least not with a pencil.

But I found something. I found something that calms my mind and release emotions I can't for the life of me grasp the meaning of. No, I'm not artistic with a pencil, but my hands are far from useless. They make music.

They sing and dance where I can't. They draw pictures of rainy days and thunderstorms that cleanses my souls when yelling doesn't work.

I play the Piano.

My hands trace love letters and create their own without guilt or heartache. They touch people's heart when words don't work and ease pain when sound is the only tolerable companion.

I play Piano.

An old instrument, but far from useless. Its my closest friend and deepest confident. We've endured a lot together throughout the years. It knows all my secrets and has endured all my pain. It gives me a peep talk when I feel down; and helps me to feel proud of myself. It's my biggest cheerleader and my loudest coach. 

I play the Piano.