Black and White

Black and White


    My fingers slip along the keys
of the piano in front of me. Smooth;
they are smooth, and yet
the perspiration on my hands
creates a trail of sticky, sweet sweat
on each and every key my fingers trace.
People are looking at me -
people I know and people I don’t.
         Anxiety;
the black pupils
and whites of their eyes
distract me with their contrast -
the same as that of the keys in front of me.
    No.
         Focus;
I have to focus.
As my fingers slide
from black to white,
I can feel the strings under the ebony surface
get plucked, one by one.
I have to ignore the eyes,
their colors like a white angel
against a black one on my shoulders,
painting the entire world around me
         in black and white,
         right and wrong,
         up and down.
Every breath I take
is like a shudder from my core, and
I feel my body reverberate
with the same ‘pluck’
that causes each string of the piano to create music.
But a single pluck alone isn’t enough
to make the song. No,
the song comes from the mix
of black and white.
The gleaming eyes around me blur
as I am finally pulled
into the melody my fingers are conducting,
and the keys do the same -
I can no longer feel
the heat of the bright, yellow light on my back.
Black and white becomes grey -
         grey like the sky after it rains,
         grey like my mother’s kind eyes,
         grey like those old movies
before technology could handle the world in full color.
And the more grey the keys become,
the more clearly my music resonates
    within me.

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Look! I posted something! Somehow, I actually like this poem. Probably because I wrote it as a paragraph and then split it up. So, while I was writing it, it was technically prose. But really. It is kind of cool. What is this? Me liking poetry I wrote? Nonsense. The world must be coming to an end. But anyway, I've been very enveloped in Yu Yu Hakusho fan fiction. You should go to my fan fiction profile and read it. I update it every Saturday.

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