Hidden Is Not So

I bought myself a used piano yesterday for under $80.

Of course getting it tuned and repaired will add to that, and my mother should have discouraged me from agreeing to pay for it since the house is so small with a hallway big enough to barely contain it, but I have it. My first piano that I paid for. I was so excited yesterday. All the possibilities flying around my mind.

But I wouldn’t say I’m doing entirely well. I haven’t been sleeping at all. It’s been about two weeks without adequate sleep and it’s beginning to worry me. I’m pushing myself to exercise more and I kind of seek the pain from over doing it because I’m stressed and I’m trying to keep myself from feeling the drag of my depression. Especially since I’m thrilled about the piano so I shouldn’t have that feeling right there, so ready to take me back under. It’s everything else that’s really stressing me out. I’m trying to print my art and I keep running out of ink (means another $32 I second guess spending). I’m trying to finish another piece. My writing is getting behind again and I’ve been trying to copy those things as well, the job situation is up in the air, my family is around for this week, my eating habits are stuck on my mind all the time now. I just find myself very anxious about several things lately. And I’m still giving my things away without a thought.

I’m trying to cope with depression the best ways I can without the usual help others have access to. Finishing all these “projects” is all I care to do. So if buying more ink means I have one problem out of the way finally, then I’ll do it. It’s my “hard earned money” going down the drain after all, for something only I care about, what only I’ve wasted my life doing. Same with the writing and the songs I’ve yet to record. It’s time to have things done. I am so tired.

———————————–

Hidden Is Not So

The eggs were thrown into the sky
And cracked open on the high
Goes all the good you’ll have in life
You never waived goodbye

Artists of the world, paint the lifeless with grins
Sculpt me dancers with their bled toes
A pianist with her fingers broke
Playing through the pain

Hidden is not so hid, it bleeds right through
And inconveniently confronts you
And I fear once I lay this down
The whole world over will hear it sound

——————–
…….Just something I wrote recently. Wanted to share.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under poems

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s