sometimes silence is that friend you haven't seen in a long time, who you need to work past that awkward, "who are we together," stage again.

You keep using me
Without knowing you are doing so
And I allow it to happen
Ee use each other in the name of
Friendship
But we both know that’s
A ploy
We aren’t real
Friends
We are just filling a role
That the other needs
In this time and space
And that was fine
Until I fell into your color blue
And now I can’t play the part
That you cast for me
I can’t just float out here
And swoop in when the time is right for you
You see
It doesn’t work that way
I am the softest place to land
But I can’t be that for you
When you are rock hard
I am the sweetness you crave
I am the vulnerability you need
But you can’t see that
So I have to walk off this stage
Stop acting as if I can be the girl
Who plays this role for you
Because you can’t see
That I am worth it

The stage is a world of imagination.
A place where our minds can run free without a sense of direction. As the characters make us fly through a catharsis of laugh and cries. A combination of gestures and movement, each playing their part  in unison towards a certain fate

Although the humor makes the audience forget the sorrow, pain, and misery of reality, as the scenes guide them, the acts show them and the actions amaze them of the destiny even in the conflict of scenes, all is done in resolution of the might and glory of an all-father, as people gather to watch the incredible power of God in play and they pause in amazement of the greatness of him as the impossible the eyes see in the beauty of the STAGE

on Stage
a peacock of makeup  
the comedian
bating thunderous uproar
knighting fury
turning humour over the belfries
of the overcharged assemblage

he fouls with them
utilizing his vile material
putting together ideas that no brain wants scribe
visuals
you create yourself
(but
your twist at his bidding)
you become broken down and ******
applied apart by his gagging speech
and his splintering costumes of mood

the comedian builds from this
until rage
and ruptures of relief
integrate...

a berserk laughter is result
kettled in the mob reaction
a collective convulsion
a need
more than a mirth
japes dressed in death
have foraged a credible rebirth

his soldiers attired
he has seized his corps of souls
his Mad recruits of Chaos
the comedian pulls out a plastic toy Sabre  
and directs the revulsion
(the Grand Prank)
in a charge against
the wealthy neighbours

On this stage called life, the sunrises the audience to their feet and the sunset steals the show...


©

the more you're attached to your narration of life,
the more you are missing the comprehension;
which indeed can't ever be contained or explained.
we are the derivative of energies and ****** up chunk of proteins, which doesn't want to be a part of anything else but you. '

you're the biggest cover to keep and you're the biggest secret to reveal, to not the very world but very self of yours.'
that's the fixture you do with narration, you never hold it; you give up on it but what you can learn is the comprehension.