Prayer’s too hard of a simple machine,

A pulley of light years’ length

Wheeled by the world

I want to hook, like I can’t see the moon

For the man on it.

he old guy he die
he old guy who once sat in the sun
he had a cocker spaniel who sat in the sun
and soothed like custard the old guy both die
he lived for plays drama actors
many entrances and exits
now where he be
in the not to be

spotted only by our mind's bright light

Here's a little story about one of my best friends, and I
We've gone through the lowest of the lows, to the ecstasy peak of highs

It all started during the second half of 12th grade
Immediately a beauty caught my eye, fixated my gaze
Her aura was not normal and I immediately needed to know her name.
It was in that film class, where we set the stage.

I tried to back away, even though it wasn't what I felt in my heart
There was just something about her that struck me right from the start
I knew in her life movie, I wanted to play a part.

Not a supporting actor, not a stagehand.

I wanted that lead role, and so I took a stand
We then embraced our connection, and took on life, hand in hand

There were clashes with the cast around us
Mental strains clogged the drains and caused too much fuss
But we knew enough to build off of what we had, trust.
That and a whole lotta love, thankful for every moment
That I was blessed with this star from above.

But we were young, high-strung, and intoxicated by our surroundings
When we shut it all out, removed all doubt,
Together on a cloud it was no less than astounding.
A future we were founding, shined brighter than sun beams
It's in those fields where life feels better than your dreams.

Existence was constantly testing us, arresting us in prisons that felt so grim
I was fighting a battle against hateful people, one I could not win.
Voices from outside led us astray, to sin
An alcoholic's logic, made me wanna get a bat and swing
But we sparked a new beginning when we dismissed other opinions.

She was my sunshine, and I let her know
We nurtured our beings, continued to grow
Anywhere she wanted me, I would surely go
We never stopped to look back, groovin' with the flow

We never meant any harm
but sometimes had to disarm each other
when the alarms were blaring.
There were occasions that were downright scary,
But peace was found in each others' eyes,
Staring into the depths of one another's soul
We physically held onto each other determined to never let go.
Despite the rain, shine, or snow
We've weathered all weather patterns
Our boat we continued to row

Merrily merrily, wait where are we?

2 hearts, minds, bodies, and souls
Our blissful union had been on a roll
But spending life on a bus, depressed, and sleep-deprived was surely taking it's toll
Got me drinking and thinking there'd be a tomorrow I wouldn't know.
Became resentful with a head full of dreadful hypotheticals
Unto none I could bestow.

Someone drowned in the nearby river
I figured I would join them after a night of abusing my liver
I immediately considered, how I felt during her moments of weakness by the cliffs
I'd've been so hurt emotionally it would seem as if internally I was pummeled by fists
I then put a pen within my grip, now connecting the dots, it led to this.

I once pushed her away, now it was her turn.
I tried holding on too tight constantly watching the bridge burn.
Impending doom filled the room inside my head
Sorrow was now the only one to lay in my bed
Zooming down a road I knew to be a dead end

When the time came, the perfect vision of our future shattered
I still kept fighting for love, but felt it didn't matter
The canvas was torn, the paint was all splattered.
I felt as if it were a sick joke,
Causing my inner demons laughter chasing a happily-ever-after

She would still call on me, whenever I was needed
Like temporary medicine even though I felt that I was bleeding.
Never heeding warnings from friends,
I felt like nothing more than a means to an end.

I lost the two that were closest, but they found each other.
In that fire I was but a scorned lover,
Cast them off my island,
While they didn't know where my life or mind went.
Lived life fast, one could say hell-bent
Then spent a lot of time, with another girl.
Decided this was gonna be my new world.
Although, it was doomed right from the start.
I was this girl's "soul mate"
but she couldn't hold my whole heart.
I tried forcing it, picturing another forever
I hurt us both, my mind is far too clever.
We were both too hurt from the past,
I knew it was a matter of time, it wasn't meant to last.
The concept of hurting someone, I just could not grasp,
2 and a half years sure went fast.

The original girl would sometimes pop in my dreams,
It was never angry but I didn't know what it could mean.
Shortly after the breakup came in girl number three,
We matched, the fun times with glee
Surely we were on a loving spree.

One night it changed, my whole being felt strange.
Inside was a feeling that I just could not tame.
I was at work stuck on a trip down memory lane
Fiery passion was the game
I knew deep inside I needed that again.
Hurt to another came down like rain,
Never intended despite how much I could explain.

I needed to let go of past pains and invite love to stay.

I messaged the girl that was once the brightest star in my solar system
We let our feelings out and again our spirits were in rhythm
It was a new beginning
Even contacted my old best friend n let him know how I missed him.
I again tried to hug her pains away and listened to every word she'd say
Common contact was slowly turning the nights into days
Replaying memories and the talks of forevers with old and new lovers.
We knew once again, that we always had, us.

Memories irreplaceable
I smile when I look out the windowsill
Reminiscing on the old thrills.

Nights spent watching sappy movies alone
while she lay with her head on my chest to the beat of my corazon.  
We once had sanctuary in each other, a home.
So many times I held her with optimism while she cried
Mascara marks on a hoodie of mine have stood the test of time
In her once upon a time was the only place I could confide
Arguments and water balloon fights.
Sneaking around to see each other always felt so right.
Halloweens and the moments in between,
Knowing the grass on the other side wasn't any more green.
Beds that were beyond places of rest,
Places where our cosmic beings could confess, love.
The best of rollercoasters had us addicted moreso than any drug.
I let tears fall in front of her once, regarding the loss of my dad
She held me oh so close and told me I'd be the best father anyone could have.
We've grown with time, and I'm happy to see her still rain down sunshine.
I'm happy that we once had each other as lovers,
and have each other as friends.
The past is past, but the stories will never end.

my mother is both my stagehand
and my audience.
when the stage lights burn out,
she will be there to drive the darkness
back into the corners.
when the flimsy backdrop crumbles,
she will build a new world for me
while cleaning up the ruins of the old.
she will wipe the exaggeration from my face,
and still applaud when I am myself.

my mother is both the moon and the sun.
her voice brightens the cloudiest days
and her laughter is a warm embrace.
out of all of the stars in the galaxy,
she is the one that keeps me alive.
when the day comes to an end,
and all I can see is night,
she will pull back the waves
when I feel like I am drowning.

my mother is everything.
she is the water that nourishes these roots.
she is the reason love grows
from this family tree.

I tried so many times to tell you how I feel
The love I have for you is one  I can't conceal
Every time I try to tell you I fall flat on my face
Anytime I'm near you I'm just a hopeless case
I'm in so deep, I'm afraid of tipping my hand
If I told you how I feel you wouldn't understand
Our friendship is much more than I ever planned
I know you think of me as just another stagehand
Wish I had the cajones to climb off this old fence
But until then I'll just have to be content
To be a small part of you.

now, i’m no physicist
but i believe
the powers of gravity
to lay far beyond
the tides of the ocean
and the pulls of the moon

if gravity
in all its mighty magnetism
chooses only to pull the earth
how might one explain
the karmatic lure
that graces our love?

through the roughest of splits
leaving the most jagged of edges
scars ripped through perfection
forever shattered by broken words

despite endless attempts at resolution
and countless finales to our grand tale
we always found our tears
to be recurringly interrupted
by the rustle of curtains being drawn open
for an encore of what was presumed to be lost

who has drawn these continuously?
consistently hoping in the face of doubt
to whom might i extend thanks
for becoming the self-appointed stagehand of our love?

why, it can be none other
than the beloved universe
that intertwined us from formation
expending the very magic used to bind us
to tear away our blindness
and once again
as if on cue
reunite us

He hurts me in ways,
I can't understand.
He chokes me when I'm drowning
And won't stop until I reach the sea floor.
He can play the victim;
While I feign the warrior role
And comfort him.
He plays both director and writer
And makes me the stagehand as he steals the screen
Then in the end, as the curtain comes down, he's drowning on the ocean floor.

At this point, my only friends are the ghosts inside my head.
The ones that remind me of every time I have messed up in my life,
That tell me, every time I hear a song from a musical I’ve been in,
Or a line from a show I’ve helped with,
Or something an old friend used to say.
Every time I hear one of those it reminds me how much of a ***** up I am.
How I’m talentless.
How I’ll never be one of the choir kids to go to a contest anymore.

I’m nothing more than a mistake.
I’ve searched, for a long time, for one thing I’m good at.
I enjoy things like theatre, until someone gives me that look.
The look that says they’re shocked that I could be that bad at something.

Both of my teachers have given me that look.
My best friends have given me that look.
The boy I fell in love with my freshman year has given me that look more times than I can count.

So.. I quit.
I quit choir.
I quit band.
I quit drama,
And musicals,
And plays,
And being stagehand.

I quit drawing.
I quit writing.
I only write anymore to throw my emotions out on a page like it’ll help-
It never does.
I just end up taking it out on myself either way.

My only friends are the ones inside my head,
Because they are the only ones honest with me.

I know that they are right when they say I am pudgy,
And too short, or too feminine.
I know that they are right when they say I will never achieve my dreams of living in Washington Heights,
Working at small time theatres-
Because that would mean someone would have to love my audition enough to actually cast me.

I’ve only ever gotten into shows where they accept everyone.

My only friends are the ones inside my head,
Because they see things the way I see things.
That the red scars decorating my thighs make me a little more beautiful.
Or that people will only love me when I am skin and bones.

I know that I will never dance or sing again,
But that will not stop me from trying to win the beauty pageant that is life.
I want to be the skinniest.
I want to be nothing but skin and bones and muscle.

I want to be beautiful.

And the voices, like true friends,
Want me to pursue that dream.

And the voices, like true friends,
Want me to die.
Because that is my dream.
And true friends support your dreams,
And wishes,
And the like.

These voices in my head want me as gone as I want me gone,
As much as everyone else wants me gone but won’t admit it-
But they admit it. They say it loudly.

i'll allow you. it's okay.
i got used to this anyways, so...
you didn't destroy me, you know,
even though
i still fight with myself and
with the silence i want.
but it is okay.
you can.
don't worry.
i am
elastic.
gum.
rubber.
my heart can stretch as much as you want to pull it
and, surprisingly, dear, it does not break.

it's okay. i allow you to be
the director
the playwright
the scenographer
the light designer
the soundman
the stagehand
the manager
of my life.
and i, the humble and obedient actor
ready for anything
for those few minutes of fame
ideal ******
and claps.

can i also be the audience?
i think it would be a successful comedy.

Once there was a man,
he cried while watching the dawn of the day.
He would rather stay in the shadow ,
awaiting for dusk.

In the nick of time
he worked hard to be backstage
he would not let his face shine
and he danced with life on his own

One bitter tragedy lied this same man in depression.

He didn't want to be the stagehand anymore
he stood tall
and auditioned for the main part.

Chances are he wins,but even if he not,
he will be priviledged to dwell on the dream:
Well,

I saw the same sad magpie twice today.
Does that count as joy?
Solitary bird.
Sat beside the greenest grass.
Sat upon the safety of the fence.

That night he sees the moonlight in a pool;
"I'll keep this trinket in my nest".

My uncle Paul. Born when other people
wanted to forget the war,
twenty years before I arrived.
We drew grey tanks on scrolls of paper,
splattered soldiers with our red felt tips.

What do you do when the sirens start?
Turn off the gas. Seek shelter. Do not panic.

In my grandma's bathroom was a box,
made from a hollowed out tortoise.
Inside, snug and heavy, like the last
solid Russian doll, lay the grenade.
Safe. No charge. So my uncle Paul said.

The earth still smoldered when the tortoise
first walked. A survivor of the last Great Dying.

I've never seen a bomb explode.
I've not been deafened by a blast, nor
smelt sulphur tinged with rotten meat.
What is war without the dead?
An empty stage but for the props.

The heavy velvet curtains twitch,
as the stagehand checks the house is packed.

A single spotlight swoops then rests;
illuminates the uncaged beast. Scales, horns,
bristles, teeth; frame his clammy goat-like face.
Seven magpies peck the boards. A cacophony
of squawks drown out the murmured audience.

I am a dying memory.
I am lifeless as the hands that made me.