On Stage

I The stage is a desert. A no-man's land between heaven and hell. Eyes pierce from foggy darkness off the edge. Don't fall down. Silence behind large, heavy sheets. Prayers go up. You can hardly breath in Purgatory Take one step On the hollow wood Painted charcoal black cold and empty before you. They are waiting for the show. Eyes piercing from the pit where you can't see. II Back behind closed doors clothes thrown about a hurricane of make-up, voices, and electricity. Before the winds a family stands. None quite the same as any other. Make-up hides scars puffy sleeves cover deformities bellowing out characters to forget ourselves. Never the same ever drifting with the script sands of time never fully erase the scars of life. Coat my face one more time Hide the bruises on my eyes Hide the pale skin, muffle the cough. Tighten the corset stand up straight don't show the pain the audience paid yet again. III It takes all kinds to pull off the show. Strangers come and pull together. Heave up walls build a set Mix the paint trim the suits. Prepare each costume watch the others transform stand quietly while layers painted over battle scars earned. Harness yourself next to your enemy, forget your differences for two-three months. Gay, freak, jock, nerd. Holding small books written lines, imaginary characters. Do you learn each other? Or just the character portrayed? In life or on stage. Do you see past the masks? The knife sticks the gavel falls the poison sets to work a hushed silence in the crowd. Crack a smile, release the breath. The corpse pops back up and bows. How beautiful the painted creatures on this cold rock standing between heaven and hell. Do you ever see, the truth behind the paint to cover the scars and broken bones? In life or on stage holding together pieces shattered apart. Wild-cards, jokers, slight insanity Freaks of society Standing hand-in-hand as the curtains close.