she adjusts an earring that was once bright,
una estrella sin brillo, she says
fat ***** bad ***** skinny ***** sad *****
costumes, darling, people mistake them for skin
her mascara smudges when she laughs
everyone is an actor,
and all actors are ******
not for ***
no, no...for attention,
for dancing in the spotlight
there are concealed creases under her eyes,
i can see her through the bottle-
beautiful, bruised, aged
she taps ash into a chipped glass,
and i dream-
how many think cigarettes taste like her?
loneliness sets the price
up, down, we are all traded on the market
she smooths the wrinkles in her silk robe,
a half smile teases her lips
and loneliness...it breeds elephants
not the circus kind,
the quiet ones
the ones that learn your scent before you do
i watch her remember something-
something you never really forget,
a song once shared as a burden-
la soledad nunca perdona
we birth them in moments
we pretend we did not choose
we leave them in the dark,
then wonder why they grow so large
we gather them in our rooms,
the rooms we do not invite anyone into
we do things there
that make the light feel far too honest
she closes her eyes, breathing slowly,
inhaling something only she can smell
escuchame, mi amor,
las estrellas no pueden brillar sin la oscuridad
her smile is gone
replaced with a small, distant ache
otra vez, otra vida, she says
with so many elephants in one room...
darling,
how is anyone supposed to breathe?