Taking Care of Music

I didn’t care enough for you, my music,

it’s true.

I tried the intimacy dodge

of saying “I love you” reflexively 

as though that would hold off the

accusing eye or stop the 

embarrassing questions 

from being asked.

Of what do you accuse me?

I was hungry for relief

and my soul only wanted

a blanket of sound

over my trembling heart.

And you gave me relief.

I wanted relief from sad thoughts,

So my fingers hurried across waiting keys

filling pages with strong letters

empty of heart and soul.

And you kept me swimming

on the surface of stormy seas

as if floating in a calm.

I wanted shelter from

a grasping world taking

pieces of me 

in every spare moment.

You gave me pleasant

excuses to ignore

the voices giving marching orders

and kept me off the field of battle

one more moment.

I can’t help it if you fill

these emptinesses so willingly.

I didn’t care enough for you, my music,

but I still held you close.