How sweet the thoughts of nonexistence;
To not have to wake up to the same hell each day,
All feeling and emotions disappear,
And things can finally be okay.
But I am okay.
That's what they all see.
And to be completely honest,
Where's a reason not to be?
Surrounded by darkness,
No fear in dying,
But I fight the temptation,
I swear I'm trying.
I'll just write some bad poetry,
Make terrible thoughts easier to endure.
So much desire in red parallels...
But I won't give in, and it's only for her.

Looking out at the empty seats,
I see the faces that have taken them in past times.
In only a few hours those seats will be filled,
Filled with new faces.
Each face waiting for a mess up,
a foot out of place,
a word forgotten.

Those seats,
the row marked reserved,
the critics are coming tonight.
Fear,
Terror,
Horror,
Thoughts.
"What if I forget a line! A step!"

Practice,
Rehearsal,
Every movement is perfected.

Make-up on,
Not a hair out of place.
Prayer circle, check.
Chant, check.
Props in place, check.

Curtain call,
First position,
Cue music,
Curtains open,
Show starts.

It all flows together, so flawlessly.
"Why did I worry?"

Critiques come back,
Simple fixes to simple problems.

It's over, till tomorrow night.

That sound, did you hear it?
A cracking, breaking noise.
It was there, I'm sure of it.

I heard it, as you walked away.
Did you hear it?
I'd be surprised if you had not.

Twas loud, like a crack of thunder.
Or the shattering of glass.
If you did not hear it, I'm surprised.

Left here, picking up the glass.
Creating all of these new scars, new cuts.
It will be alright, I'll survive.