Musician

Trembling fingers play jazz songs on piano
Dry, pale lips mouth the words to every song
A full ashtray is the only thing sitting on the bench next to you

Glossy eyes stare straight ahead, reading invisible sheet music
A smoke stained robe hangs loosely on your jagged, thinned shoulders
Atop the piano is an empty bottle of scotch

The sun sets and the room darkens
You play through the night as usual
Beautiful music from a tortured soul

I walk by with my coffee, you're slumped over, sleeping
I pick you up and carry you upstairs to your room
Leaving you as you sleep quietly, my jacket serving as your blanket

The next morning, I wake up and check on you
Only to find that you're at the piano again
Playing until your fingers blister and bleed

Playing until you die