when (shit) gets really bad
(like now)
i always (pretend) like
i'm in a movie,
that way
you can make
all the appropriate faces,
gestures
the (perfect)(poignant)(tear-jerking)
monologue
the one that changes everything
and then everything
changes
right when you want it to
you can literally make things happen
without (really)
being there when they
(happen)
immature, i know,
but it's the best way
(i could think of)
to deal

----cut to small boy kneeling in shadowy
hallway, tear-stained cheeks,
blank, unfocused stare

and then that way
you can control
everything
lighting, mood
the whole damned sha-bang
(Supporting Actress)

----psychedelic, blinding,
sun-glared window-paned backdrop,
little girl, two-and-a-half,
climbing yellow
and white checkered curtains
dangling
suspended above crib
//panic-stricken//----

the fuzzy, faded, low-angled childhood
flashbacks are what
(truly)
make a great film

----infuse garbled voices echoing
through a futuristic sort of intercom,
over clackety-clack of type-writer
keys----

her burden is yours (mine/theirs)
theirs is mine (yours/hers)
a secret to keep
(forever?)
why i turn away from your playful touch
at nighttime (secrets/plot-twists/it's so
all-consuming if you just let it/)

----cut to adult female, lurched over
stained porcelain bowl,
dry-heaving, shirtless, putrid-pink
pajama pants down around
ankles----

the curse
the cliche of a lifetime
(cringe, faint applause)
renewed again and again
(Based on a True Story)
the real-life film noir
(fin)