Acting

I lie splayed on this stage of a reality,
struggling to breathe. My heart is clenched
and shudders as it beats. Head swimming,
rolling, chanting: stay alive. stay alive.

This will be my night of death.

Fitting. Stabbed through the stomach
with a sword unsharpened, rounded dull,
I collapse with a gurgle to the floor.
Illusion, all of it, and as the bodies pile up
the audience just laughs. The curtains close
and I scramble to my feet, my death played out.
I must keep out of sight, for I'm a ghost.

Yes, fitting, do you not agree?
The stage is perfect for a death,
a transition, a shedding of
this act, this character I had become
so very good at playing. So well cast.
Clap for the director, nowhere to be seen.
Run away to another play. Clap anyway

for once the play has ended, once
the final bow is taken and actors have
shed their parts, the world rushes in
and reality reigns again. I'm left
dead and wondering if I'm still on stage.

I creep out onto the startlingly bright stage
As my eyes take time to adjust
To the blinding light
It reminds me of heaven
As if I’ve found it on earth
Music plays distantly in the background
A familiar tune
My body shakes uncontrollably
And as my heart rattles around in my chest
I feel it tapping a rhythm
That sounds vaguely familiar
But I can’t place it

The stage lights blind the young and terrified actor. In front of all of those people. And worst of all, my family. Expecting so much from me. I make my entrance. Say my lines. Off i go. To the safety of backstage. But not for long. My next cue is coming up. Out i will go again. I will brave the lights, the audiance. I will face it all, just so i can act.