He wants me to be confident—

I sit at the piano. I feel his cold world collapse beneath my fingers
as I pound across the ice cold keys.

Like his heart,
I play to win.
Like the beat within my soul
I pound the rhythm out like sin.

The storm rages all around me. Lightning crashes as I speed into prestissimo. I wonder if he’s ever played the piano, I wonder if he’s ever
just let go.

He tells me to defend myself.
How does one defend what one can’t comprehend?
How does one defend against   such a man?
I am terrified of him.

He wants me to be confident— but I just want to live.

I want to be free.

I don’t want societies sticky fingers corrupting this beauty inside of me.
I don’t want people like him
watching me.
I want to smile and get high off this ride. I want to play the piano, and dance—beat time— live without the ticking hours racing in my mind.

He wants me to be confident—but I just want to live.

Tears crash like burdens on the floor, corner of my closet— I let go.
Tears pour—prestissimo. I feel dirty,
wearing his words like dark ornaments destroying my bright purity.
I would have thought him more a man,
had he hit me.
Instead,
his cowards tongue
destroys me.

I’m his baby-beauty-blonde-play doll. I think,
“If only I were ugly—he never would have noticed me, he never would have had to have me.”

He wants me to be confident—but I’m not built of wax, wick in the middle… turn me on or put me out— I just want to live,
so

i let  go.