We’re Playing. We’re Pretending

1.

the first step for making a paper crane is to accept the truth:

one, that the paper can be folded more than seven times

and two,

that you love shoving sadness down your throat. you always wished to be a

theater kid and i always

wanted to be more than an example for rotting organs.

there’s a missed call on your phone. it's mine.

and the script for this act

is everything you are and everything you're not.

[sacred // sunlit // star crossed // silhouetted].


2.

you know all

this is more like a ride or die scenario than a one man show.

the crushed ice in your poison is either

glass or crystalized tears. you die either way.

so, shut up and stop

repeating the same dialogue over and over again.

it won't make it hurt any less.

the role you play is that of a liar. you're a liar

but this time, the scene is the act of accepting

that silver cutlery on your lips won't make the words coming out of your mouth beautiful.


3.

beautiful! lights! camera! flashes!

dance, love! we know our characters more than

we know each other. [go on, sing] we know them more

than we know ourselves. [go on, shout] “we don't have to love each

other here!” [ the poison wasn't real—

[white eyes, white afternoon, white bones, white limbs, white lies]

—just like our love.] we’re filming our lives. it's chaotic. it's unreal.

[— was it though?]


4.

what if you were ineligible for this role and

i played the only main character?

the matchstick burned,

now the curtains are burning. soon,

the buildings will burn. we have enough props;

your limbs like voyages stretched along the clothesline and

my muscles, like a fanfiction of consequence and aftermath of some belief.

see, we’re at it again. you're dying.

[we’re playing. we’re pretending.]

5.

the play never really ends. but, you get hungry for applause.

so,

i offer you my heart. i fold myself in the suitcase, you can keep my heart.

the stage is covered in confetti and

you tell me that i look pretty covered in glitter.

[a comic strip // pop art // vintage magazines // sequined fabric]

the song is getting boring and so are our lives and

i don't like that. it's meaningless.

“life being boring doesn't make it meaningless.”

hush! look, the horizon is bleeding. i think it is time for sunset. i think it is time to wrap this musical for tonight.

we can stop pretending.

Written by: Charu

Charu’s Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/junecentric/ 

Previous
Previous

The Things I Knew Before I Knew / The Things I Didn’t Know Until I Knew

Next
Next

When I First Met the Person I Thought Was the One