Untitled

Lights up

She spIns, round and round, her body a whirlwind of colourful fabric. In her mind an awestruck audience gazes at her gloWing form onstage. She smiles a brilliant smile and perfects another pIrouette. Then she sees him. He stands there, lurking in the shadows, haLf-hidden behind a bLood red curtain, watching her. His arms are crossed tightly agaiNst his chest and although his face rEflects the warm glow of the stage lights, his eyes are cold. "Chin up!" His voice booms across the theater. She stumbles and nearly falls, but catches herself just in time. She angles her face up towards the blinding lights. Even with her eyes closed she could see his disapproVal. "Keep your back straight! Lift your arms highEr! No! Don't lock your knees!" The commands fly at her, fast as shRapnel and just as sharp. She winces upon every word, feeling them like the swift taps of his metre stick whipping her body into position. "Faster!" She grits her teeth and spins faster. "Faster!" The world becomes a blur before her eyes. "FASTER!" Her limBs threaten to fall off, but she continues to wind hersElf tighter and tighter. Her crowd of admirers have lonG since disappeared, undoubtedly hOrrified by the uncontrollable hurricane that was once a girl, but they dOn't matter anymore. A thousand images flooD her mind, countless picturEs of her younger self biting back tears as he forced her to perfect stretches and splits, leaps and turNs, mercilessly mOlding her into a creatUre of grace and beauty. Hysteria invades her body. She screams. "Are you proud of me now!? Are you happy?" She explodes across the staGe in a series of indescribably fast movements, sHrieking. "Look at me! Are you watching? Are you proud of me yet!? Are you proud of me...."

A girl collapses on an empty stage. Her makeup is streaked with tears. Her hair, having long since escaped its once-neat bun, falls in ragged locks over her shoulders. Her clothing is ripped nearly to shreds. Her desperate cries echo from the stage, haunting the theater, but there is no one there to hear her.


Blackout

Me, Myself, and the Monsters In My Head

I'm back.
I didn't think I'd ever be
Back to the start
Yet here I am, once again
Fighting monsters in my sleep

I'm tossing and turning
Trying desperately
To cling onto the last glitter of night
Before my nightmare
Envelops me and drowns me
In its murky waters
Even though I know how to swim

What happened to my dream,
My beautiful piece of paradise
I held a glimpse in my hand
A moment ago
Now it's a broken shard of glass
That leaves scratches in my palms

If I listen closely I can hear
The whisper of sand
Fall through tiny cracks
Like the ones between my fingers
Stealing away the seconds
That make up the hour
That fall far too quickly into
The bottom half of the hourglass,
Into a memory.

So here I am.
Standing atop a mountain
Made of finely grounded happiness
Armed with only a sword
Hand-crafted from fragments of nightmares
To face the monsters in my own mind.