Curtain Call (Letter to a Lost Soul)
I mentioned the other day that I'd started an original piece of writing, and though I didn't know yet at that time whether I'd share it publicly, I've decided to go ahead & do so now.
Is it crappy, good, relatable…something else entirely? Don't know. Will I write more of this type of thing in the future? Don't know that either. But I do know I enjoyed getting this piece out of my system, so thumbs-up to that. It's been a long time coming.
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P.S. Since I usually share music with my fics, I figured I might as well carry on that tradition here as well. Enjoy:
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Please come back.
I don't want to say these things.
Just turn around, won't you?
Because
your face,
your many faces --
(Did you forget yourself?)
I can't reach them anymore.
I can't keep track.
They are,
you are
incomprehensible
and too far gone.
Happily ever after called in sick.
We've been nursing it back to health
all these years,
but it died long ago.
It bid us a slow adieu
within muted emergency rooms and
whitewashed catastrophe,
between the knowing looks
of policemen, teachers, & neighbors.
I saw, but steadfastly refused
to see.
It wasn't the first time
and wouldn't be the last.
This is the mantra -
pay attention
and repeat after me:
It's no big deal.
It doesn't even matter.
It's only the sky falling:
another day,
another night,
another year.
"No one promised you
a rose garden"
is what you always told me.
The ultimate answer.
Shape up or ship out.
So I poured icy grief over the top of my skull,
letting it drip-drip-drip all the way down,
numbing the skin,
and I counted the resurrections
as you paced back & forth
in your open grave
hurling obscenities at the sky.
You know
it's funny,
but not really.
When I was small,
you were the one who was tall.
(little hands grasping
on to your skirt)
Or at least
that's how it seemed at the time.
you felt so helpless
everything white was covered in blood
But your hair then was like a black mane
circling your face,
and your wild eyes roared
when you bum-rushed the stage.
Your name was all up in lights.
You kept telling us,
but we wouldn't listen.
I threw you a bouquet anyway;
did you see?
Wilted flowers,
it's true;
still, that was your doing.
At least I tried.
You did too;
I'll be fair,
sometimes you did,
being everything
and nothing at once.
You got lost in the everything,
I think.
It was easy for you.
Maybe that's why
you usually didn't try
when trying mattered most.
I remember
that you thought it was a curse,
some righteous punishment perhaps,
this cosmic joke on your mind.
If you could just take away what you'd done,
being born,
maybe he would heal you.
But he never did.
Surely, that was our fault.
I reminded you that I loved you
like a broken record
at night, in the morning,
when you opened the car door.
It was my charm,
my defense,
my medicine for you.
just in case this might be the end
I held on tight
to wishes and vigilance
like good boys & girls
are supposed to do.
(…am I good yet, God?)
I tore myself apart over you,
vowed to never forgive you,
forgot
how to love you
as I sank beneath your capricious tides
& offered up the remains.
You saw my sacrifice
and hated me for it,
begging me never to stop.
Didn't I know?
I was the only solid thing in your life
cracking open at the seams,
moonstruck
but heretofore
seemingly invincible.
Steely,
I always held myself
perfectly still,
hiding
& trembling from the inside
out.
Maybe you didn't realize that I was waiting
for you to show me, prove to me
by being well
how much
you loved me back.
To tell you the truth,
sometimes I feel like I'm still waiting
and always will be.
Like it'll never be enough --
deep inside me
a hole
that no human being could ever hope to fill,
but I still want them to try.
Is that fair?
If you were here,
you could tell me.
But you're not.
There's a reason for that,
a reason
like the one my existence
perpetually lacks,
but it would appear that I still want
what I can't have.
Shout at the wind --
the rest be damned,
right?
I guess I am my mother's daughter
after all.
---
Fin
Is it crappy, good, relatable…something else entirely? Don't know. Will I write more of this type of thing in the future? Don't know that either. But I do know I enjoyed getting this piece out of my system, so thumbs-up to that. It's been a long time coming.
---
P.S. Since I usually share music with my fics, I figured I might as well carry on that tradition here as well. Enjoy:
Click to view---
---
Please come back.
I don't want to say these things.
Just turn around, won't you?
Because
your face,
your many faces --
(Did you forget yourself?)
I can't reach them anymore.
I can't keep track.
They are,
you are
incomprehensible
and too far gone.
Happily ever after called in sick.
We've been nursing it back to health
all these years,
but it died long ago.
It bid us a slow adieu
within muted emergency rooms and
whitewashed catastrophe,
between the knowing looks
of policemen, teachers, & neighbors.
I saw, but steadfastly refused
to see.
It wasn't the first time
and wouldn't be the last.
This is the mantra -
pay attention
and repeat after me:
It's no big deal.
It doesn't even matter.
It's only the sky falling:
another day,
another night,
another year.
"No one promised you
a rose garden"
is what you always told me.
The ultimate answer.
Shape up or ship out.
So I poured icy grief over the top of my skull,
letting it drip-drip-drip all the way down,
numbing the skin,
and I counted the resurrections
as you paced back & forth
in your open grave
hurling obscenities at the sky.
You know
it's funny,
but not really.
When I was small,
you were the one who was tall.
(little hands grasping
on to your skirt)
Or at least
that's how it seemed at the time.
you felt so helpless
everything white was covered in blood
But your hair then was like a black mane
circling your face,
and your wild eyes roared
when you bum-rushed the stage.
Your name was all up in lights.
You kept telling us,
but we wouldn't listen.
I threw you a bouquet anyway;
did you see?
Wilted flowers,
it's true;
still, that was your doing.
At least I tried.
You did too;
I'll be fair,
sometimes you did,
being everything
and nothing at once.
You got lost in the everything,
I think.
It was easy for you.
Maybe that's why
you usually didn't try
when trying mattered most.
I remember
that you thought it was a curse,
some righteous punishment perhaps,
this cosmic joke on your mind.
If you could just take away what you'd done,
being born,
maybe he would heal you.
But he never did.
Surely, that was our fault.
I reminded you that I loved you
like a broken record
at night, in the morning,
when you opened the car door.
It was my charm,
my defense,
my medicine for you.
just in case this might be the end
I held on tight
to wishes and vigilance
like good boys & girls
are supposed to do.
(…am I good yet, God?)
I tore myself apart over you,
vowed to never forgive you,
forgot
how to love you
as I sank beneath your capricious tides
& offered up the remains.
You saw my sacrifice
and hated me for it,
begging me never to stop.
Didn't I know?
I was the only solid thing in your life
cracking open at the seams,
moonstruck
but heretofore
seemingly invincible.
Steely,
I always held myself
perfectly still,
hiding
& trembling from the inside
out.
Maybe you didn't realize that I was waiting
for you to show me, prove to me
by being well
how much
you loved me back.
To tell you the truth,
sometimes I feel like I'm still waiting
and always will be.
Like it'll never be enough --
deep inside me
a hole
that no human being could ever hope to fill,
but I still want them to try.
Is that fair?
If you were here,
you could tell me.
But you're not.
There's a reason for that,
a reason
like the one my existence
perpetually lacks,
but it would appear that I still want
what I can't have.
Shout at the wind --
the rest be damned,
right?
I guess I am my mother's daughter
after all.
---
Fin