centre stage: a collection

It’s all a lie,

And now I see.

The fault, as it

Were, is in me.

My face bears no

Truth, but a

False endurance.

Smile, Laugh,

Reassurance.

***

Dawn.

Slowly rising, crashing through the black horizon.

Light,

Pushing through darkness, flooding empty space.

Highlighting the black silhouette of a building.

She raises her head, staring out into the vast sea of people.

The urban skyline stretching for miles.

Lights, shining through freshly cleaned windows.

The head of each sky-scraper,

caught in a cloud of imagination and awe.

Applause, encore, a standing ovation.

Doors fling open, bringing forth life and movement.

Car exhausts, horns, begin the soundtrack to the day.

Ringtones on the underground, half over-heard conversations.

She greets the sound of praise, bows to her audience.

Business lunches, opened with a gesture.

Greetings over drinks, praise. A quiet ear; receiving party.

Old friends.

The sun dips away beyond the edge of the earth.

The fiery glow fades into darkness with the ever-falling sun,

Dragging all recognition into submission.

Curtain falls.

***

I am the oppressed.

Of late and recent

days my life a dull

ring; a story with no

plot. Follow me through

closed doors and dark

passages. This is my

journey…

***

The sharp metallic ring,

A corpse.

Dragging its limbs from the cover of sleep,

Reaching for the noise of day, the sound of civilisation.

The crow stands tall on his branch.

Stumbling under false awareness,

Breaking out into blinding light,

The sickly sweet smell of morning feast.

Plunging into harsh, pounding rain.

His beady eye follows her path.

Beasts gather; vultures to a carcass.

Swarming clouds, pressuring, confining.

She cowers from her repulsive reflection; a weed within a ring of roses.

His flock return. All set their glare upon her.

Communion.

Surrounded by her own-kind.

Helpless, ill-feeling;

Unwanted.

His cry ringing in her ears.

***

Am I to blame

for my own fate?

Should my blood

pay the price?

My hand brings my

pain, yet your words

fill me with hate.

My soul, cries for

the night.

***

Alone.

Covert affection guides her hand,

Cruel light reveals her shame,

And her unknown treasure responds to the beat of her heart.

Luminous night-watcher.

Swift.

A blade, slicing into soft fruit.

Mutilation of glowing flesh.

Wine flowing from the open wound.

It’s beam piercing through emptiness.

Black ink.

Staining.

Spreading across the page.

The memory engraved on her mind for eternity.

A crater on its surface; a hideous pore.

Furtively she looks around,

Her nocturnal friend in her grasp.

Her pulse; blood coursing through her pain.

Dark, deep … death.

Clouds conceal its light and night takes hold once more.

 

***

She was just a girl.

Young, impressionable,

misunderstood.

Treated with contempt.

Alone.

“We are all responsible

for each other…

Good night.”