Said the Old Ballerina

They were all so much more enchanting. 

When they stood up there, giving away every single falsity made for washing, they really were something. 

It really was a magnificent show. 

...I whisper in the eerie, tingling, space and silence. 

An empty theatre devoid suddenly of its sparkling stars, still with all the red-cushioned chairs I adored a lifetime ago...

For a moment I sweep a perfectly broken-into-a-permanent arch foot+toes around in half-circle - then up on the ball, arms flow around and up and I.... dance again on the empty stage. 

Wonderfully trained, tortured beauty of movements. Years. 

The movements made, acclaimed, when I was captivating.

Ends with a smile and sigh. Feeble knees. Empty marquee.

Sometimes, you choose something else so many times. Too many times. 

And it's gone. 

Sometimes they borrow away all the things about yourself. The parts you loved. 

And it becomes a part of their newest character.

Unwriting the words you ached for first. 

So you fade-
at the ribbons,
at the fingertips, at the curly tendrils ends,
- even further from any recollection. 

And you're forgotten.

Video Break #8

This is a must see. Entrancing short film.

Time to Start

It's time to start over. 

You see, I've been half-way someone else's for so long that I forgot I even was -  
Forgot that - 
while I was still smiling to myself about playing with how the skin can sweetly work - that it was disappearing entirely. 

And if months and moments disappear - then hey - did it ever really happen at all? 

That's how memory drips. . . . . . . 

And oozes. . . . . And greases my eyes with such a milky viscous that everything is thick with falsehood. 

In the cold I couldn't see it. 

In the cold I found plenty of other motives, and desirous souls to touch and build a make-believe humidity in refuge with. 

But now the heat is pouring in through my 2 inches of window-pane again. 

It's softening. 

And it's strangling, as I walk through the city with the faintest dowsing of sweat all over. 

When the city seems so much louder, so much more powerful - so very devoid of my foolish plans. 

(This heartbreak city)

Because "Plans", such stupid things - are just mockery to our wallets, our minds, our hearts and our entire brackets of "Lives" that just didn't go the right way. 

They all went haywire in a million directions that no one can tell if it's good or bad. 

Now. Well, now they say I've got scars. 

They say my body is building up bad things. 

And I couldn't help but laugh -

when the doctor called - since, well, that's always been the case. 

So could you spare me a little more of the summer evenings - when the sky fills up heavily - and I catch the warm amber strokes against my blue eyes, and colored metal bracelets, and last night's hair - and the car keeps driving - and there's tall grass and stars awaiting.

Cause I want to feel like how it is when the sun drowns into the horizon. Melting days into a fleeting twinkle of adventure. 

Melting so many resolutions, so many mistakes and misreadings - into just another couple stories. 

Just another time it didn't go one way. 

It went another. 

Headphones: Hootie's "Innocence", Dylan's "Times they are a'Changin", Adele's "Lovesong"