Out of the Box Office

she had many-faces juanita guccione

I look at you
and wonder
where I went wrong
what I missed
how I missed it
You are in the center stage of your mind
the lines between real and a character
you pull out of the latest box office success
are so blurred
there is no way to convince you of the right
and the very very wrong of choices
you have made me the catalyst
the adversary
the evil intent
that you have risen above
but your rising in truth is nothing but sinking
open your eyes please
the light outside only dazzles for a bit
join us in the true
the here and now
step out of the latest character
discard the artifice, the new and improved blame
life is better lived out of the box office

*artwork by juanita guccione*


About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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