the grand in the corner

here sit the keys, beckoning for my black nailed fingers,
its like i should only play on the black keys today,
as the sun slowly peers in through my darkened curtains,
its morning staring at me, and cascading over the black satin piece before me,
all night ive sat here, waiting to let the music dictate,
but the music isnt there, and my soul is weak,
the white keys now radiate such light,
as i sit here, i place my fingers so sweetly on the keys,
i miss you,
and i start to play, and the drowning sound of music
comes from these fingertips,
just rolling in the deep, in this moment,
i am free, and my soul misses you,
now more than ever, so i will sit here longer
and play till my fingers hurt,
because youre what i want.