crescendo
10:30 PM
my sister won't stop playing frosty the snowman, and i'm trying not to mind. because when i was 12, and resolute, i did just the same.
i've played the piano for 12 years now and every day the keys sound more and more like home. i have this one song i've loved since third grade. i think we all have that one song.
i've played the piano for 12 years now and i've never learned chopsticks. my teacher wouldn't allow it. but i didn't really care. i trusted her.
she told me i was supposed to dream about performing. she told me if i played fast enough i could forget any kind of scar. i don't know very much about sign language, but i knew my fingers could say anything close to unshakable. she told me i was supposed to play until my fingers bled, and not from pain, but from passion. from edvard grieg's death carols to shubert's unneccesary pedaling. my fingers bled.
they bled
they bled
they bled
i've been in love for 12 years now. i've been in love with mozart, and dot art, and that chill that runs down your neck when you hear something beautiful. i've been in love with reserved people, and cities, and pretty furniture with prettier stories. the kind you find in salt lake, or maybe just grandma's front porch. I don't know what it is about brick houses with white window panes, but one day, i have to have one.
i quit playing 6 months ago when i needed it most. my dreams were tainted, my scars weren't healing, and my fingers couldn't spell anything but broken. my finger tips bled, and not from passion, but from pain. from the 2 am playlists and the 3 am goodbyes. my fingers bled.
they bled
they bled
they bled
and i never understood why
so i tried again
so i put everything on the line
the notes,
the sharps,
the flats,
the dotted halves,
the heart.
i played on defeat splattered keys, but that never bothered me.
because i fell in love with every drop, and every finger. i fell in love with every finger that wiped them clean with ghosts, and backseat kisses, and every hymn that resembled some kind of imperfect redemption screaming:
"you're still alive"
and i was.
and i am.
and i always will be.
so until god believes my unshakable anthems should be played for only the angels:
then please,
take me with you.
11 comments
"i've been in love with motzart, and dot art, and that chill that runs down your neck when you hear something beautiful"
ReplyDeleteI got that kind of chill when I read this.
You've done it again. <3
Wow. My favorite post ever. Not even kidding. I can relate. I play strings not keys though. "so until god believes my unshakable anthems should be played for only the angels:
ReplyDeleteThen please, take me with you. #stolen. Gosh I just really can't even believe this post.
Oh man. This whole thing. This is amazing...speechless.
ReplyDelete"she told me if i played fast enough i could forget any kind of scar."
ReplyDeletebeautiful
"i quit playing 6 months ago when i needed it most."
ReplyDeleteI loved this so so much. I can't even explain how much I agree with this so I'll just say that. Sorry for the weird comment. Loved it.
I RELATE TO THIS IN EVERY SINGLE WAY SO YES BEAUTY MY EYES AND HEART AND EARS WERE JUST FED BEAUTIFUL WORDS.
ReplyDeletek sorry all caps cause fav one ever.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDelete"i don't know very much about sign language, but i knew my fingers could say anything close to unshakable."
ReplyDeleteso so good. Cornelia Boom you're incredible.
Oh. My. God.
ReplyDeleteEverett Mills quoted the line I was gonna quote. Teach me how to write like this. It's absolutely beautiful.
ReplyDeletethis. this is nice.
ReplyDelete