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ballet...pointe, bitches

I LOVE YOU, and duran duran/star wars/indiana jones/phantom of the opera/RENT, but mostly you


her tears were rose petals…

on the surface
she is smiling
on the surface
she is lying
in her head
she is crying
in her head
she is dying
In her head
she knows its real
she knows its there
and always was
and always is
and always will be
Reality

Reality …
It hits her hard
the wish remains
for pain to pass
and so it has
with this one kiss
the kiss of Death
“that’s it!” she says
and now she’s set
to let this go
to let hope go
to let dreams go
to let go
of herself
and of everybody else
and all that remains
is the cold flesh and bone
her spirit, gone
still filled with love
and pain
and sorrow
but that’s why she did it
and that’s why she’s gone.
and now he knows
and everyone knows
how she felt
what was real
and what was a lie
and why she cried
and why she died.

Her body lingers, alone
She saw it as
An object of no meaning
But how, of that object
which could mean so much
She was blinded from her own significance

the face is still there
the face that caused it all
and everyone is watching
and everyone is seeing
that the tears are still there
still here
still running from her soft, hazel eyes
still running down her flushed, tender cheeks
and one by one
the drops tumble
falling from her haunting face
and from every other face
and death is here

And as the tears fall down,
rose petals hit the ground.

by: robyn hall

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