My ex.

My ex used to cause my hands to cramp up

My fingers were never long enough,

Never fast enough

My ex used to make me question my abilities

Who i was,

Who i wanted to be

My ex wasn’t always mean though

Sometimes i’d cry,

Out of feelings I couldn’t name

And by the end of our escapade,

I’d wipe my cheeks with a smile

My ex had everyone flocking

Sometimes the attention made me uneasy

I knew what they wanted

Something fast and clean

Sharp and loud

Something they couldn’t quite understand

My ex was a lot of things,

Fun, difficult, easy

And cruel

But,

In the end

It was only a piano

And i’m happy

To finally

Call it my ex

Thank you for reading this poem younger me wrote. I remember the class I was in liked it and thought the poem was about something/someone else doing certain things I won't say. What did you think though? That, I'd like to hear. Like, comment, react with those little

Fun fact: I like playing the piano still. I actually thought of this idea because of a movie I was watching and the need to submit something for a grade. Ha!

Peace!