You Look Lovely (For Blanche DuBois)

The beautiful dream is dead.  It’s been dead for a while but it’s finally caught up to you.  Your tragic radiance followed in your wake as you left your trail of victims who wanted you no more.  You were run down. Dried up. Time for a better life. You can still be someone.

 

Your perfectly poised delicate beauty was a stark contrast to the New Orleans streets your heels got caught in.  Shaky hands opened the liquor bottle to help your nerves.  One’s the limit, you told yourself on your third pour.  It’s just the nerves, that’s all.

 

Loss follows you around like your shadow- silent and ever present.  The last person you have in the entire world is not even happy to see you.  Her other half sees through your battle armor that you so carefully put on every morning. It’s beginning to crack and you know it’s only a matter of time until it shatters. The bottles begin to go faster and faster.

 

You try to drown out the tick of the clock with the whir of the fan.  It doesn’t work.  Just another constant reminder that you are failing yourself just as you have failed everyone you have ever known.

 

You’re spiraling.  Your tiara weighs heavily on top of your head.  It matches the rhinestones in your dress perfectly.  It matches the glassware too, you laugh to yourself as you fall to the floor.  You decide to forego the glass and just grab the bottle instead.

 

The years have not been kind.  The pressure has been building.  But you are becoming a diamond.  There’s beauty in your breakdown. The magic you so desperately long for resides in you.  It’s hidden in your descent.

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White Woods Dying (For Blanche DuBois)

You are a delicate beauty. But that does not mean you aren’t tough

You’ve seen loss, loss, loss. You’ve been the one who’s had to deal with it

Desperate choices were made. Sacrifices your only company

You’re lost, lost, lost in an atmosphere of decay but your tragic radiance shines through

Softness gets the people to come- but attractiveness gets them to stay

You look lovely, lovely, lovely

The anxiety sets in, its close cousins loneliness, emptiness, and depression are not far behind

Your one choice is desire- brutal desire is the opposite of death. It’s the only thing you can do

Breathing becomes harder and harder. You just want to rest

The dark is comforting. In the dark there is no one you can fail

In the dark there is no one to keep up the appearance for

But you are still someone. You have your tenderness and your love

The searchlight has faded to a kitchen candle but you can still feel its soft glow upon your skin

You know there is still love out there for you. If only you could find it

You want magic because you have seen all human experience

You know who people are and what they want. You let them take it from you

You need kindness but there’s only the man who will destroy you-

Your very own one-man judge, jury, and executioner

Your armor is cracking. The years are slowly making it crumble

The beautiful dream is dead.  It’s been dead for a while but it finally caught up to you

You can’t let them see how much you hurt. You hide it just behind your laugh

It’s everything too much all at once. You had it all under control but suddenly you’re spiraling

You need to make it through because you can still be someone.  You can turn it all around

But every time you look down the glass is always half empty

You don your tiara.  You take a sip, sip, sip

It turns into a drink, drink, drink.  The armor is useless now

You think of the sea and its vast emptiness.  You see it in you

You hear the gentle crash of the waves never relenting against the shore

There is beauty in a breakdown. And yours is the most lovely of all

I thought the end of the year was supposed to get better. Carefree, no work, playful, happiness day after day.

Don’t seem so.

With every day it gets harder and harder. The workload is more. It’s more things I don’t understand. The smiles and laughs are becoming less and less.

Everything is just piling up.

There’s only so much time before I

b

r

e

a

k.

He’d never seen the ocean.

His feet started to touch the sand and he became very excited. He took off his flip flops and started running.

He stopped at the top of the dune he had climbed and stared across at the sea.

The sun was half its normal size, slowly setting straight in front of him. It was an orange, yellow that was indescribable.  The clouds and sky surrounding it was a vast mix of pink, purple, orange, and yellow.

The water seemed to go on forever in all directions.

He slowly walked toward the tide. His feet hit the wet sand, and in another step it was being hit with a wave.

He closed his eyes, he wanted to savior this moment.

He’d never seen the ocean, and now he didn’t ever want to leave.

Your feet move swiftly upon the well trimmed field

The cadence plays keeping the beat

All one machine- the snares, quads and bass to no one they yield

You keep the rhythm and feel the pulse in your feet.
You stop in your spot- ready to start your show

The thing that keeps you going- that keeps you moving on

The one thing that means more to you than anyone will ever know

You could continue to do it all the way to dawn.
The drum major stands in front, hands at the ready

The drumline and pit hold their sticks

You poise your instrument to your mouth, holding it steady

The color guard waits to start their kicks.
The major moves their hands for the downbeat

The air has a crisp to it, but it feels right

It is cold, but you don’t miss the heat

You keep the cold instrument to your mouth- lips tight.
You march around the field to the drill you know by heart

You feel so much is very moment- more than anyone will ever know

You know you are better than everyone in the stands, so much more smart

You can feel everyone’s passion, the heart, the glow
In the blink of an eye the show is finished

You begin to walk off the field, slowly in a line

Everyone’s energy could never be diminished

We will always continue to shine.

The darkness seems to be closing in.

How do we make it go away?

Where do we begin?

Can it be done today?
The light is fading, it’s getting dim.

We need to find a way out.

Our hope is looking grim.

We need to find a way to change this about.
My eyes are beginning to slip.

You want me to keep holding on

But I seem to be losing my grip.

I’m already gone.

The wind slowly whips around your face.

You look up to the sky seeing the sun.

The leaves green to orange and red replace.

You think to yourself how fall has begun.
In the blink of an eye, the cold sets in.

White puffs of nothing cover the ground.

You bundle up warm up to your chin.

Then the first patch of green is found.
The flowers slowly begin to grow.

Everything is coming into bloom.

The babies are born from the doe.

And summer is here way too soon.
You can feel the seasons in the air.

They can envelop you anywhere.

White wisps of nothing floating through the air, quickly turn to harsh drops of witch-melting water. Pelting instead of drifting.

How funny that they change just as quickly as sensations coursing through the brain. Hope, wonder, and awe shift to helplessness, melancholy, and gloom.

I’m still trying to find the rainbow.

Your smirk and intimate glances with me

Leave me with a flutter in my stomach,

A hitch in my breath, and a pounding heart.

You receive smile and a wink in return.

Lookers on would think we are having

A silent lover’s conversation.

Maybe we are and we just don’t know it yet.