Fingers brush the keys
All wrong
But you don’t care
You listen
To the playing—as bad as it is

I memorized it all
Just as you instructed
You are nothing like my parents
Forgiving
And willing to listen to everything

You listen as I tell you how I
Recovered
From the rain
I come literally drenched to your studio
On my bike

You run for towel
And seem genuinely concerned
I try really hard
Not to cry
But I am touched at your kindness

And you are so smart
I want to be you
I don’t want to be meth
You have it all
A piano, a husband, a kid

You are loved
And you are respected
And I am 14
I hate myself
Except when I am in your studio

You make me feel worthy again
I have practiced so hard
My father can’t appreciate it
But you have a different reaction
You tell me it will all be ok with your eyes and your gentle voice