Poetry Dump

The Stage

its spread all over the skull
and tied tight in the strings of the heart
never ceasing to loosen
or encase itself from my body
i fear i might die
or worse,
never recover
my hands start to shake
with all my quickened and whispered words
as i try to appease the masses
im a disaster zone
typhoons and hurricanes have destroyed all life that once flourished inside the houses with the loving families
and the children taught the fear the unknown
every which way i look
i see what i dare not think
my vision hurriedly glancing
everywhere but the obvious
pretending to act oblivious
to what my mind is ready reciting
i avert my eyes
i always do
but its always them
watching
waiting
plotting
discriminating me like a puppet without its strings
yet im played on the stage of despair
and disgust
like a sad marionette
with its eyes yet to be painted
i see masks everywhere
masks of people i dont and will never know
clowns
masquerades
even some that are just like me
blank
but all are as equally destructive
the dastardly part is that they mean me no harm
we are all played on the same stage
but everyone on this stage is an enemy
a force to be reckoned with
everyone on the stage loathes, pity's and hates you
which makes you all have
something in common
which is the cruel irony of it all

this is how the play goes
how the stage is set
how the script is written
but sometimes
the actors do not show
the stage is askew
the script is highlighted and then torn to shreds
they are so nervous to disappoint
yet they cannot perform
they cannot fathom to move their cracking bones
it is much too painful to move without oil to your tin ligaments
dreads and doubt fill their heads as they try to start anew
to wipe the slate clean
only to be suffocated with
new dreads
new doubts
more hatred
less peace
all these dreadful things that chew away your nervous system
and bleed you until your dry

an endless cycle of torture
never ceasing
never uttering a single word
to that clever stage of the marionettes
all need do to stop the madness
the clutter on stage
the screaming ensemble
the silent cloud
and the master of puppets
is to step onto balcony
the balcony of wind and lights
and finally succumb to the funhouse
mirrors underneath your eyelids
and to the prescription pills that keep you awake at night
along with the contract
that you signed to gain
a life of bright lights
visible scars
and anorexia