And Act Two Comes to a Close, Ladies and Gentlemen

There it is

that's the end of it.

so it goes, says the late satirist

I sign my name in blood on the last page

of a book full of sloppily handwritten notes

all letters sent

all returned to sender

thanks but no thanks

too late for words

this book chronicles a drunken waltz

through a china shop

where the plates are priceless memories

and the cups are filled with blessings

that i proceed to spill all over the floor

I'm a passed out clerk at the counter

and none of the noise wakes me

and though I cause great damage

to the entire store



Yes, this book is a quick read

there isn't much substance

it's the same four pages over and over again

(the writer's block is made of lead

and it's chained to all four appendages)

The same four pages, save for the last three

on each a part of me dies

bringing closure to our story

the first is well deserved

the second was premeditated

the third was a surprise

but here I am

signing my name

owning up to these things that they claim

because I know why this happened

and I understand that I made this mistake



I've been an asshole, plain and simple

and these deaths are simply proof

that no matter how many sorries are spoken

they mean nothing but I O U

and even that implies a far off time when the debts will be paid

and tomorrow is never here until yesterday

and by then it's just too late



I wish you'd stop sending me pictures of the error of my ways

been there, done that

I saw it live

I paid extra for a front row seat to my own undoing

and the curtains opened

and the actors emerged

and our protagonist began to act in ways that i found unnervingly familiar



and as the rising action rose

and things came to a head

I find myself without a voice to scream

to scream at him

I wish this would stop

this ironic dream sequence

watching myself make the same mistakes

reading the same four pages of script

adapted from a book of the same name

that I finished ten minutes ago

just sent it to my editor

and then washed my bloody hands to no avail

because my whole body is bloody



and it will take more than water this time















It will take more than water.

I will have to change

and I don't think i can fake it this time

I don't think I can lie to myself about this anymore.





velvet curtain smother me

red like the blood that i long to be rid of

show the people what they want to see

but know that I won't give up

I'm made a martyr

and to that I've agreed

but I'm done reading lines

following scripts

find a new male lead.

I refuse to become a villain for you

and even if you always see me in that way

I'll be someone's hero in time

somewho somehow someday







Sitting at a table in a bookstore

I sign another autograph on another jacket

of a book of these same four pages









nausea.

Powered by ScribeFire.