Writing

we stood on stage in black & white eyes tired but we sang til tomorrow anyways // they caught our eyes as it ended raised their hands to clap but i turned quick away convinced our performance wasn't worth more than // the quiet glint of confid

It all began with a dare. It was a hot summer day. I practically dragged myself from the school bus back to my house, convinced I’d die of heatstroke.

One flutist.

And empty auditorium.

A silent stage.

I can feel the silence reverberating around the space -

I can feel the lack of an orchestra at my back,

The invisible audience before me,

I'm alone here,

And I can feel it -

In the silence that fills the table

In the void of few words 

Separated, closed off

Away from everyone else.

Around me,

Tables talk.

I hear Uno and chess

Comme le soleil, 

Tu laisses sans pensée. 

Le vent, un tempête–

à l’intérieur de ton esprit.

Amor et détester, 

Look upon the king

Sitting high above

The cardboard throne painted gold

With the lies of hate

Held up by the bodies of those killed to make it