"Piano and Writing" by Catfish

I played piano up until I was in 5^th grade. I like to say that it wasn’t so much giving up as it was just me dedicating my time somewhere else. That isn’t true, I definitely quit. I go to concerts now though, and I see some maestro rocking out on the keys and I feel jealous of his talent. I feel like I had the potential within me to possibly be some sort of performer that way if I had just a little more gumption to me and a little less stage fright. In a way, when I write, when I type, I can pretend as if I play a keyboard on my laptop. It’s like I can compose melodies with phrases, and feel the crescendo of the rising action. I play softly for a more pensive passive tone, and I pray I end on a high note. I compose requiems, and I hear them sound incorrect, so I bang on the backspace hoping for some comeback to reveal itself in later portions of my piece. It’s sloppy and I hear the twang of the keys and I realize that this is the reason I quit piano when I was in fifth grade. I don‘t like it when it doesn’t sound good, when it isn’t perfect. What I have learned though is that the music can sound better despite those flaws, and if a note is held for long enough, if I hold out on these hobbies, then I can find harmony. I only hope it can resonate in the listener’s ears.

"The Heart of Winter" by Catfish

We were the first snow. We saw it all coming into place beside ourselves and recognizing each other's fragile beauty, we fell down together. Somehow being both graceful and awkward, you were unique. And me, with my slipping slickness, trying so desperately hard to be cool, I found my snow angel. Together we were pure, not dirtied by past romances, we were evergreen. This chastity though, also meant that we had a fair amount to learn when it came to being with each other. Sometimes we were unintentionally mean, like shards of an icicle, frigid and jabbing at our sides. At other points, we took it too fast and we rolled into an avalanche, where we were temporarily flurried apart. We then had to trudge our way back north, through a slush that changed our temperatures, but only for a moment as we soon found our frosted hearts again. Blanketed, under sheets of ice, we sparkled. Creating a prism that onlookers would hail, we briskly skated through our time together, but as the seasons changed, we inevitably would melt. You’ll forever stay frozen in my memories though, a wintry remembrance of the virgin snow.

"Gray" by Catfish

As big as an elephant, as small as a fuzzy bunny. Spelled with an "e" or an "a", it is the common ground between the most opposite of spectrums. Fade in, fade out, it is subtle yet appealing. It's a silver without the distraction of shimmers. Ancient in statues, but hardened in armor; it is most powerful in pencil, yet gloomy in the skies. It is like a stone that has been washed so far. While the hues may fluctuate, and the canvases change, my favorite color is always the same. 

"We Call it Making Memories" by Catfish

Done up like a cigarette
laying burnt out in the streets
Only face what's in our head
We call it making memories
Living for colors
and dying for a taste
Prayers from our mothers
but we drift religion to waste
Yet in spite of our sins
we still look to the stars
we're already up there with them
polluted in our brains, but cosmic in our hearts
And we indulge this
with trembling gasps
from the aimless miss
to the climactic collapse
You say "I'm scared"
I am too
but we're courageous on a dare
and I revel with you