Repeat

The words of my disappointed cello instructor echo through the empty concert hall

Play the piece one more time

Then you’re free for the weekend

When I was young, I would have to use my left hand

to place the fingers of my right hand on my bow

Now they fall into place

I start the piece

I could never get tired of this sound

The deep notes vibrate in my soul

The high notes are pure like angel tears

I play and

I play and

I jump to the top of the page once I reach the bottom

My muscle memory takes over

Every crescendo engraved in my mind

I jump to the top of the page once I reach the bottom

I am no longer reading the music

I jump to the top of the page once I reach the bottom

Two days have passed

The calluses on the tips of the fingers of my left hand are not holding up

The strings are cutting me

I’m bleeding

My right arm is exhausted

My long graceful strokes have turned into one inch draws

The fingers on my right hand are numb

I wish my bow would fall

I wish I would pass out

I wish it were Monday morning

I jump to the top of the page once I reach the bottom :||