Pounding on the keyboard it’s good to be alive. Over the raga playing through my headphones I hear her stirring in the bedroom above. My fingers hover, waiting, not wanting to disturb her, though the electricity in my hands is impossible to ignore. I wait until she settles. I hammer the keys like I’m alone. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough.   The ones who don’t fit in.   The ones I see my own face in.  
Read more
It’s barely five am and already warm on the street. The smell of spring is noticeable. I relax. I allow myself to believe winter is over. No more snow. This year was easy. But the sound of approaching footsteps wrecks my bliss. There’s always a chance for predawn violence. I prepare. 
Read more
The hallway is still. Not even a murmur from the apartment that never sleeps. Though cautiously I open the fire door. The stairwell beyond is often full of surprises. I admit it’s been quit for weeks now, but I don’t let my guard down. Something about always being prepared. 
Read more