Sometimes the words come.
Cascading, tripping over each other
On the white of the page in red teacher pen.
Sadness, venom, despair.
Take a word and spill its guts.
Bleed it for answers and pour.

Staring at a stranger
Once a part of me, inside.
Integral, interwoven,
Wrapped around me,
Stemmed the tide.
Questions are unanswered,
Words a part of me, denied.
Resisting and unravelling,
All I know
is that you lied.

A lifetime.
Erased.  Cut short. Exit stage.
Without a glance downstage.
Fellow players in your tragedy
Left to bow.  To explain.
Words don’t come – but pain…
that flows with the muted
applause.  For the ‘bravery’,
the ‘getting through’.
Away from the spotlight
backstage we wretch.
We cling and we weep.
We struggle to eat, to function, to sleep.
Your new audience greets
You.  You mutter, what show?
I closed it down
It’s no longer mine.
I lowered the curtain.
Shut it down.  Closed it up.
Exit left.
Fellow players that you once inspired
Slow clap your tragedy.