"offstage" poems
You cause
a break inside my organs
Pointing out my flaws
our differences.
You are at peace.
I sit jittering, worrying
what everyone will think
of when I didn’t care
you made me laugh at
everything
Changes. You’re not right for me
Nor I for you, but I can’t help
Thinking
What if? Then I remember
you’re not what nor
Everything I want.
You are an intellectual snob you
have a depth about you
I would love to delve in,
a psychological study
that even the best critics would praise,
but I don’t want anyone else to have been there
or ever go there.
I cannot hold on to you
tear me away while
You’re haphazardly gluing us together
We’re a kindergarten art project
messy, trying to see
Beauty within the confusion,
unfinished
You asked me
Where am I most at peace
4 years old.
I could be anything
No fears
I hadn’t been ripped apart.
I was the girl that said everything,
until I felt the need to screen my thoughts,
like the filter you use to make your coffee
each morning. I wish that’s where I was,
having you tell me
that you like your women like your coffee
Dark and bitter.
I can look past your chauvinistic ways,
not giving a **** about anyone.
You’re not really closed minded
You just act like it,
which annoys the hell out of me
Sometimes. I wish life was simple.
But then
I would never know your complexities nor
Feel the things you help me feel,
like hate for train whistles
or the burn of gin hitting my throat.
Music
you introduce me to
offstage trumpets, bad movies. Your politics,
your brown eyes
and how you can hear frequencies
that most everyone else can’t. I worry
that you hear
the fear in my voice and heartbreak
With every word I speak.
When were you going to tell me?
Or was that your plan all along?
To throw me out
like yesterday’s coffee grounds
or cut up scraps
Used and unwanted.
I wish I could tell you
to tell her you don’t want her
but me instead,
you don’t, I don’t want you to.
I want holding hands, laughter
comfort, personality, humor, intellect.
You want that plus things
I can’t give
But you always take.
You are your coffee
disgusting, caffeinated,
addicting
the only patch that helps is
comforting words you never spoke.
We had many conversations
of your desires, lusts, mistakes,
but I was burned,
by lies, distrust.
You left, like always,
a harsh, acidic aftertaste
on my tongue.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
curtains may cover my heart, leather may shade my eyes
but perform it must, my everlasting soul
oh by the chains of my great master I trace lines through dust on this ancient stage
Puppeteer, your strings are razor blades I cannot touch
Do you smile your jagged teeth behind the lights as I limp
left stage right stage
hands tied, lips bruised
while I am delicately yet surely sliced in two?
you once felt kind breath slip over your tongue, you envisioned
orchids given at night.
Such devious motives you now posses, time
My recital for one wears away skin
on the tips of my toes, keep tearing
moving upward snaps my fingers crooked elbow
ARISE FROM YOUR SHADOWS AND FACE ME
for I know this pain well
Ah mirrors mirrors you fool me
You have adopted my face, adopted my grin
blink blink it will not clear
it will not falter
i see- leather
crumpled in spotlight
stage right stage left
in spotlight
there are particles floating there are shards of littered glass
Dear audience do applause, I did it
I tore my skin, broke my bones, limped side to side
Puppeteer do forgive my twisted image for I needed you to blame
Secrets secrets treat me well, for I have nothing else to sell
Forgive me empty seats, row 1 row 2
I must try, I must try
to crawl offstage
written 2010
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 12:41 AM UTC
A monitor sight fixed on a scene
as they talk and talk away
my eyes scan mumbles, shoulders, hair screen
as I had nothing to say
I'm shrouded by a heat blanket
that I got when I broke both legs
I fixed it on another planet
and then I wished to be in bed
My camera's offscreen stuck offstage
while my mind roams the empty rooms
but blindness causes people rage
because all they see are tombs
The word's they echo off my mind
but I'm too far away to respond
mindfulness isn't always kind
and they'd rather I be fond
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
I am the only actor.
It is difficult for one woman
to act out a whole play.
The play is my life,
my solo act.
My running after the hands
and never catching up.
(The hands are out of sight -
that is, offstage.)
All I am doing onstage is running,
running to keep up,
but never making it.
Suddenly I stop running.
(This moves the plot along a bit.)
I give speeches, hundreds,
all prayers, all soliloquies.
I say absurd things like:
egss must not quarrel with stones
or, keep your broken arm inside your sleeve
or, I am standing upright
but my shadow is crooked.
And such and such.
Many boos. Many boos.
Despite that I go on to the last lines:
To be without God is to be a snake
who wants to swallow an elephant.
The curtain falls.
The audience rushes out.
It was a bad performance.
That's because I'm the only actor
and there are few humans whose lives
will make an interesting play.
Don't you agree?
1.5k
Awakened to a masquerade of actors on life's stage.
With mask in hand, I'm forced to play this part I do not know.
The actors are the audience of the facade I play each day.
Unsure of how to fill the role, I take the veteran's cue.
Untrue to who I really am, the role I play takes over.
Though sorrow fills this empty heart, laughter deceives the soul.
Insecurity and fear I know; I dare not let them see.
Perfection is the script I hold; no flaws will I reveal.
As the years wear on and this act plays out, a sense of loss torments me.
A need for truth and clarity, youth's honesty eludes me.
The day has come, I walk offstage beyond the painted props.
The light of truth cuts through the act, deception flees from me.
A love so pure and passionate, expels the myths of life.
The hands that gently held me close, discard my mask - I'm free.
I look back on the tragedy played out before my eyes.
Reality's illusions sink in sand's of life's delusions.
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 12:22 AM UTC
There it was -
Among lost flowers
And drained cups of espresso.
Among corrupt cabinets,
And torrid affairs.
Among the soldiers and the artists,
Among the philosophers,
The drag queens and the disasters,
And T.S. Eliot and his mermaids.
There, in a smoky haze
Of toasts and time,
I found meaning.
Friends, lovers, actors,
Huddled together one cold October,
Not for pay, not for fame.
Drawn together merely to drink our fill
On the intoxicating elixir of humble creation.
It was there,
In those chilly nights
Of backyard theatrics,
In the raw camaraderie
Of presenting art for art's sake,
That I found myself,
Whole and true.
So many plays and shows
I have oft participated in,
And many days have passed
Since that blissful October,
But the vivid memory forever remains
Of the perfect cast of players bound together
In the pure glee of organic imaginings
As we explored the dark against the light.
Did we know?
Did we comprehend, then,
The magnitude of beauty to be found
Within the ties that held us together?
Perhaps the rest never did quite feel the current
Of the electric wonder we evoked beneath the stars;
Not only in our karaoke-laden performance,
But in our offstage whisperings and antics -
Friendships forged in a campfire flame.
I cannot speak for the others,
But as for myself -
A girl now disillusioned
By Louisiana cynics
And toxic hometown politics -
I am nostalgic for those nights
That I spoke of Michelangelo.
Oct 22, 2010
Oct 22, 2010 at 9:43 AM UTC
they carried guns
and bottles of beer and
boxes full of expensive
china and glass
their feet spilled
out in front of them
and their goods
out to the
sides
the sirens
whined somewhere
offstage
and
they were
lost in the
escape
these men would never
be more alive again
May 18, 2011
May 18, 2011 at 2:13 PM UTC
He said I was considered
a sinner because I talk of death
The holy do as well
I didn't trick a man to **** his son
I didn't flood the earth,
There's more than one way to see Noah's rainbow
The earth rumbles temples and
Splits pillars in two
as someone let all the pidgins go
You could see the red when
the sea is parted, Don't forget
your horses when the river's back
Do as you please but only when your told
or you'll wake up on the shore
only remembering Moby **** ask Jonah
They say go for your dreams
but if you miss Goliath's head
you ain't got a chance in hell
The ten insights made from mountain stone
the words reverbed from cascade to cascade
There's no excuse if youre lost in translation
There's not one "t" in Calvary
but today there happens to be three
Good thing he saved them all
The blood was poured ******
So all heaven and hell could see
That we're still clueless as before
The Sabbath reads ten after nine
The Lessons of life are real
but we still go every which way
He said he wasn't going to betray
All you need to know
is that he hung himself from a tree
Hold your guard and stand strong
don't let a little lady ****** your hair
or everything comes crashing down
Tag team with Daniel in the Lion's den
he'll probably set you free and say,
"watch the spear in the back"
Modern times solidify the past
It seems pretty easy to blow stuff up
in the the name of God
Though the sixth commandment
is broken our measure of error
is also our error of success
I floated down the river in a basket
The current was just right and my mother loved me
tonight on this passover night
Sell your brother for brotherly love
Hopefully the bridge ain't burned
You'll see him again someday
I haven't seen as many animals as Noah
Besides, he was hoarding them all,
After building the new world from native wood
Lucifer was canned from heaven
After he tried to kick God offstage
He now has his own show to run
They ate the forbidden fruit
Setting the way of life eternity
Simply by setting the world on fire
When the staff slither's snake
One better harvest before it's too late
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 5:59 AM UTC
Danses-elle, en reverie
You are the spastic source of the ocean life form
Moving between your cage of ribs
To juxtapose the gray, the human decay, and the
Preoccupation of what can, who should,
What you might and come what may –
Waking up with a stranger in bed to have
Wine in the morning, starve the dismay
Evenings of making coffee and sense,
Making away with the day
La fille, danse
Pacific sway
Pas de cheval, mais actuellement
Il est le pas d’homme naturel
There are a lot of things ugly about a place
Where we chase until fall out, fall away
Into acting offstage, and we can’t get away, no no
Dance on, girl
Dans la rue des esprits anciens
And we’ll dance and we’ll dance
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 9:06 AM UTC
I wake to his whistling
On the couch in the den
His mug full of black coffee
Now empty, he'll get up to fill it again
My grandfather is constant
He has never walked out on me
He has taught me that nonsense
Lies within the person who flees
I have watched him slow with age
His bones have grown weak and frail
I know that he sheds tears offstage
When he looks back on the trials of his tale
My grandfather is water
He flows and ebbs, traveling from place to place
But he has had three otters
To keep him company... just in case
He is a constant imperfect man
Who loves motorcycles and sweets
He's too laid-back to have a plan
But shows up early when we meet
I lie awake and I know he does the same
Staring at the ceiling is one thing we share in common
Sleep has always been like a waiting game
He wishes he could close his eyes more often
My grandfather is constant water
He is changeless and tranquil
I am certain that his love has made me stronger
Even when it appears to be casual
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 4:09 PM UTC
Sixty-six chapters and sixty-six books
(please, Catholic brothers – no ***** looks)
were needed for God to make known His plan:
the gift of salvation and future of Man.
Yet sometimes it seems rather cryptically stated;
poor Israel must wait and will wait (as they’ve waited).
Isaiah took sixty-six chapters to tell it;
for two-thousand years has the Church tried to sell it –
must Christ and his teaching thus languish in mystery,
waiting offstage in the wings of His history?
(Wings of the cherubim, angels, and vultures
now beat down upon us, uniting our cultures
while tech surges up in a dizzy parabola
micro in management, global in formula…)
Sixty-six chapters to say it in Greek
(Aramaic – or Latin; whatever they speak)
while the somnolent audience scrolls on their screens
in apocalypse trance over zombie machines.
The scrolls are unopened, the parchment still sealed
the slot-machine handle refuses to yield;
as the sixes line up towards the threshold of seven
the virgins sleep late in the Kingdom of Heaven.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:43 PM UTC
It takes on deaths horrible form thereunto,
Breaching the seas pensively askew;
Spun brutally from troubling winds of false accord,
Ignored by expression but surely explored.
O 'tis madness, voices beat savagely in my head,
Upon quiet of night as insanely they wilfully imbed.
Through mortal fear I am awakened,
There's nowhere pleasant to run 'tis my chastened.
Of life's despairs nor demons wrathful hold,
Hast thereof nightmares foretold.
In the chilling air, killing heedful wisdoms impaired,
Had I faltered, I'd been sadly unprepared.
Pressed onwards I could only dream,
With care it'd be a future supreme.
Deep in my bleeding thoughts I tried to grasp it,
Yet every brutal bound 'twas likely unfit.
Ah, let evil echo through my disrupting mind,
The faces, that blushed mostly unkind.
A hideous desire inexplicable, entombed from within,
Hastily it beckons thereunto an original sin.
The voices, whose horrid duty I deplore,
Of the old vast despairs it will implore.
But alone I am 'tis surely surpassing a realm of rage,
And all I seen, mattered naught offstage.
Regrettably in the valley of despair I have always lived,
Therefrom I am truly a weltered child deprived.
Onto the rough cobble stones bloodied and quite torn,
That tragic wind, caught in hells uproar forlorn.
A sea of red, kept in an eternal twinge,
Through to agonies I'd impinge.
Ah how they weep, the mystic fools they weep,
In fake smiles these too rustle forth and reap.
Though I'm stirred I cannot follow,
O'er endless toil I as wallow.
Unto violent passions, soaring in tempting extremes,
Of pastures buried, a life in poor redeems.
For nothing concerted I came thereafter seeking,
Every question asked it begged a haggard beseeching.
Thus in a dim labyrinth of lies I found some solace,
Here in the direst valley of despair it's my disgrace.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC
An actor is a clean slate
White as paper, lying in wait
For a pencil tip to grace its surface
Draw alive a story, giving chase
An actor is a full glass of water
Blocking to memorize, lines to remember
Brimming with character pride
Never pausing, never breaking stride
These are the things they tell us to do
But behind every actor, there's a person too
A person with their own stories to tell
With their own emotions they will befell
An actor can be a sly, cunning liar
Or can be called out for having his pants on fire
For this actor isn't acting, but merely himself
Any role he holds is packed up, resting on a shelf
An actor cries onstage
Bravo, some roses, a round of applause
An actor cries offstage
Tissue, a hug, don't even pause
Never accuse an actor
Of crocodile tears and cries
Every actor has a heart and mind
Just like anyone, you and I
Acting is a skill, you see
One I tend to sometimes hide
For I've been questioned if I lie
But...
I am good at improvise
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 6:07 AM UTC
Pretension, oh beloved actor, why do you do?
Conceal, do not reveal, the twisted grimace upon your face
While you smile the smile like a mime, benevolent, kindly, my dear angel
Upon the stage, where the spotlight makes you glow, makes you look pure
You begin to believe that you have a pure heart, and that you can’t do any evil
Even when the curtain closes, and the lights fade out, and you step offstage
You forget that your rosy makeup still remains
When you wipe off the layers caked upon your face
Do you know when to stop, do you know when you’ve reached the real you?
You pretend you don’t care when you actually do, for fear, perhaps?
Or you pretend you actually do care, when you really couldn’t be bothered – why that?
Pretend, deny the real you, ‘tis but the only way to survive, is it not
Nov 16, 2010
Nov 16, 2010 at 12:12 AM UTC
The curtains were drawn;
The lights had been dimmed;
The seats sat empty.
Ever since the gavel struck the end,
the stage had remained silent.
The seasons passed with action played backstage.
I had begun to linger by the stage door;
Glancing at those passing by; wondering…dreaming.
Then I saw her…then I saw…her.
After so long playing to a deserted house;
Stage fright…but an invitation sent nonetheless.
A ticket for the best seat in the house was hers;
third-row center.
The house lights dimmed, the curtain rose,
The stage was ablaze once again.
Her heart, soul, mind, and strength
Tempered by the hellish fires of life’s testing;
Coalesced into an energy that pierced deep into my being.
Enlivened by this vital force
The action was vibrant as never before,
And as Scene One was coming to a close I glanced offstage,
But her seat was empty; the house was vacant once again.
As the lights dimmed I sank to my knees;
my mind awash with questions.
Before the story had even begun to unfold she was gone.
My unveiled heart, my naked soul laid open…but still empty.
The curtains have been redrawn; the stage has been struck.
Backstage again, yet not alone.
Her image, her touch, her memory branded on my mind.
Alive for an instant…truly alive;
I had hoped for a longer run;
season after season…but the moment was extraordinary.
I cannot forget
Jun 18, 2012
Jun 18, 2012 at 9:28 PM UTC
the curtains rise and all i can think about are the rows of faces that i know nothing about and the pressure of putting on a good show
my body moves according to muscle memory as the music starts to play
don't miss your cue
don't miss your cue
don't miss your cue
i hit each note and beat as needed, but that's just the first scene
you come up on stage once again the same time i do
and you look at me the way you were instructed to do so
don't break character
don't break character
don't break character
i deliver the lines as i'd internalized for
but little do you know i'm dying inside
we're told to look eye to eye for this one song
and i slide my fingers through the spaces between yours
don't fall in love
don't fall in love
don't fall in love
i braced myself for the last few notes of the song, but i braced myself even more for the reality that is to come once the curtains come down
i approach you offstage with every intention to tell you what i feel
but i miss my cue
i put on a strong face to show i'm not hurting
but i break character
i told myself i wouldn't let my feelings get in the way
but i fell in love
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC
I’m Sorry
You are my most regrettable sin,
Forever with you, I shall sit alone…
In a field full of fractured seeds, waiting to be sown.
For you, I will grow a thicker skin.
Just so that with you, I can suffer through this grin.
My father took me to a circus.
It was one of those old fashioned ones. They’d used animals, still.
I’d seen that animal within its cage, its disposition all too similar to my own
It mattered not if I was onstage, or offstage.
There was not a moment where you or I did not ‘cheat out’.
Stage left.
Stage right.
Back Stage.
Onstage.
You and I were the clowns who ‘played’ everywhere.
For I, the jester was the only personality that I could encage
It didn’t matter in which way that they would stare
As long as my smile could be seen, it didn’t matter if it was more
than I could bear.
In my act of selfishness, It was you that I had made
Because I could no longer wear this jester’s mask alone.
And for this sin, I know that I shall never atone
I stole you away from your promenade…
Peeled you from a novel that was never mine.
Brought you into my life, where you were never meant to shine.
But I couldn’t bear it…
This biological function
The need to never be ‘alone’
If I had only known… god, if I had only known.
That my idea of strength was ‘sad’
And incomplete, like a forgotten draft upon a sketch pad.
Those childhood memories could never resonate within you, nor I.
We were xerox copies, printed within a black room
Duplicates, whose polaroid had bled, stained with obsidian dye.
I made you with the selfish request- to pick up the mask when I could no longer bear it
‘Please protect me’, I’d said. What a horrible sin that I commit.
For I should have known. Even ‘good’ memories are made at the expense of others.
The animals who put on their show, only to lay, as if dead within their cells.
The young actors and actresses, who will never again see their mothers.
To the ring leader, who wonders… Why does he deserve this hell?
Finally, that smiling jester… Whose world as long since lost all of its colors.
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019 at 11:14 PM UTC
I think its time that you go to the clinic.
Specially since you been denied three times up in it.
But maybe baby maybe we could
just let it slide.
The difference has arrived.
Dilemmas and cockporn all that I see
It doesn't mean there can't be a we.
Maybe baby we don't
need *** to survive.
The difference has arrived.
All the way
All the way
All the way
All the way now
Girl you gotta try
Sweet baby bye and by
Girl you gotta strive.
Even when you lie....
Roller coaster keeps bringing you around
To awful places up then down
But maybe baby maybe we could
just take our time.
The difference has arrived.
All the way
All the way
Dance so public needing a break
Step offstage now a dream we're awake.
Maybe baby maybe we just
Now hit our stride.
The difference has arrived
All the way
All the way
All the way
All the way now
Girl you gotta strive
Sweet baby bye and by
Girl you gotta try
Even if you lie
The difference has arrived.
All the way
All the way
All the way
All the way now
Girl you gotta strive
Even if you lie
You know baby if you
Try
You know baby if you
Lie
Girl you gotta
fly
C'mon baby just try
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 7:57 AM UTC
I went to
Standup today
And the guy said
"No notes"
But I went up there
And I did my notes
And I did my set
And the first half went well
And the second half was ok
And I got laughs
And I got offstage
And the guy threatened me
And did it in a passive aggressive way
And said some people get banned
And I left right after my set anyway
And went on the subway
the homeless guy is getting on with me
And is begging softly for money
And the happy ending masseuse is jerking
And the orphans walking back to his "home"
And the annual tenth black women's being shot
And the illegal busboys wiping his 87th table
And the bitter son lost his father yesterday
And there (really) is a child in Africa starving
And a girls being ***** for the second time
And the blocked composers cocking his gun
And the muse is lying on the beach of nonexistence
And
And
And
The homeless man, exiting the train, says,
Thank you
God bless you all
I'll probably see you all here
tomorrow
And
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 3:21 PM UTC
Welcome to the Off-show where reality never happens,
An interim getaway from life's twists and thorns.
A world of unfulfilled wishes and fable champions
Here we are spoilt in opulence and celebrations.
Mind wandering away to magical pleasures,
Our form metamorphosed to toothsome figures.
Heartbreakers resenting the day they broke up
Relatives are now loudspeakers of our miraculous outcome.
Soon reality returns and once again we are offstage
To default conditions of dissatisfied offsprings.
The squandered time and effort catches us off guard
As false celebrations and goals are ruled out as offside.
Our Off-show is but a self tragedy casting who we are not.
An unattainable future if we don't embrace who are.
Till we heal and dress the scars we might never shine as stars.
When you embrace and empower yourself only then can you show off.
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 2:32 PM UTC
After the last cottage receded I pulled out from the green grasses
Nothing was bothering my coffee Only getting colder like my heart’s paces
The one sight pricking the back of my eyes
Was of the person waving byes
Who wasn’t a friend of mine but someone else’s
They destined me the business You bolstered me then
Said just regularly get mounted On the commissioned rails
We’ll always be your men
If only you were now to witness Me when I have ran insane
As the flanging and clanking Enough of it I've had
Is only commuting me Into a division alien
And still looking out Through a misty and blue shaded pane
About to lose the bout I don’t like being alone in the journey, Ben.
Should we buy this book Ben? Jack you should read diaries and biographies
Momentarily I was with my colleagues Back in those cubic topographies
But Jack and Ben were just their namesakes Passengers as I crossed these depressive geographies
Only till pulling me where don’t know a four year old voiced Uncle will you please give me those toffees?
I candidly kept smiling as went back the kid
Of course kids don’t understand what I hid
They don’t see whether it’s December or May
They just see the tree in a different way
Anyway had to be at the corporation Couldn’t get offstage
Reaching the concerned documentation I saw the cover page
All true but my valid recognition It read I had chores of a big sage
It was beyond my cerebration Oh! Or my compatriots gave the proposition
And let me have the advantage!
You are letting me perform at a higher rank You set me sail to a farther bank
It seems I am not alone on this voyage You are with me as a special entourage
I was only being disjunctive
For I was looking with a different perspective
Knowing friends are with you in any of your tourney
I am certainly not alone in this journey
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 3:16 AM UTC
Hey you, yes you, the one reading this page
I would like to make a vow
At this moment, offstage
I will love you for now.
You are probably disappointed, I figure as much
But before you stop reading, please, hear me out
Forever is a long time, though I am sure you’d be touched
But please, take my hand because I love you right now beyond any doubt.
Today is the only given, leave tomorrow to chance
So in the mystery, lay your lips on mine
There is no need to leave, not at least without a second glance.
We may have not been made for each other but right now is all I need, for right now you are mine.
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 12:49 AM UTC
the quiet footsteps onto the stage,
sitting down, adjusting the bench,
closing your eyes and feeling how you should feel,
the silence before the first note, the final breath.
and then colour, beautiful colour,
a glowing light from the back of the room,
a soft breeze with notes lightly hanging upon it,
a familiar smile in a distant memory.
wrong note. eyes open, breath sharp.
fingers touching the keys, everything feels wrong,
the tantalizing stare of an audience of strangers,
going under, losing control, forgetting why
remembering. relaxing. calm breaths and deep sighs,
the feeling of something washing over you,
lying in a field of flowers as you lift your hands from the keys,
applause. bows. exit offstage.
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 11:44 PM UTC
Verse1
I did a juice cleanse the week you went cold
Felt holy, felt haunted, felt thirty-three years old
Kept waiting for hunger but all I felt was rage
Posted poems about birds while I rotted offstage
Lit sage in the kitchen, wore pearls in the bath
Pretended that healing could change what we had
Went dancing on rooftops, then puked in the sink,
then stared in the mirror and tried not to think.
Pre-chorus1
They’ll say I was crazy, dramatic, obsessed
But they didn’t see what you did in that text
Chorus1:
I would’ve stayed through the plot twists and power cuts
Learned your silence, memorized your worst months
Now I sleep like a crime scene, replaying the call
Where you almost said “love you,” then said nothing at all
You said, “Don’t write about me”—I already did
In lipstick and blood and the back of my ribs
You were never safe, but you felt like home
And I’d still pick the lock if I thought you were alone
Verse2
He said, “Don’t cry,” as he pulled off my shirt
And I laughed like that wasn’t the worst part
He said, “You like it when I ruin things”
I said, “Only because you started with me.”
I knew it was bad when I liked how you lie
How your mouth made disasters sound holy and high
You said I romanticize pain till it purrs
I said, “You keep calling it love like it’s yours”
Prechorus2
You said I’m intense—like it wasn’t projection
Like I didn’t watch you detonate every connection
Bridge
You said you were broken, so I stayed and I sewed
You said you were scared, so I softened my glow
We were talking about movies, then death, then dreams
Then you said, “I think love just isn’t for me”
You told me I’m bright, then dimmed all the lights
Called me your mirror, then shattered the rights
Said I was heaven, then sent me to hell
And I still wrote it sweet just so you’d wish me well
Carved out your echo in bathroom tile
Kept praying you’d miss me, then smiled for a while
Still set all the clocks to your birthday at three,
Then swallowed a wish I forgot was for me.
CHORUS (FINAL)
I would’ve stayed through the fallout and frostbite
Sat through your silence like that made it right
Now I sleep like a witness, replaying the call
Where you almost said “love you,” then said nothing at all
You said, “Don’t write about me”—but look what you did
You live in the margins, the bloodstream, the script
You were never safe, but you felt like home
And I’d still pick the lock
Even knowing you're gone
Outro
I did a juice cleanse
And you never came back.
I never got better,
but I glow like I have.
Apr 6, 2025
Apr 6, 2025 at 8:06 AM UTC
(A MePhone rattles and twanks and pings like Robby-the-Robot gone bad.)
Woman: “Yeah?”
(silence)
Woman: “YEAH?”
(silence)
Woman: “I’m in the hospital.”
Noise from MePhone: (think Charlie Brown’s parents)
Woman: “I’m in the hospital!”
MePhone: (Charlie Brown’s parents)
Woman: “I’M IN THE HOSPITAL!”
MePhone: (a small child babbling)
Woman: “I’M IN THE HOSPITAL!”
MePhone: (a small child babbling)
Woman: “YEAH!”
MePhone: (a small child babbling)
Woman: “YEAH!”
MePhone: (incoherent noises – could be a ******
Woman: “FOR MY COLONOSCOPY!”
MePhone: (the ****** continues)
Woman: “FOR MY COLONOSCOPY!”
Offstage, a young woman in scrubbies: “Mr. Lawrence…?”
(Deo gratias)
Exit, pursued by Too Much Information.
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 3:55 PM UTC