Betrayal (by Rylan Hunter)
Sweet angel of death with those tainted lips that whispered, "Just this once?" You filled me with your flesh and then you filled me with the presence of one that came before me while the warm toxins flooded dark spaces. As the thick velvet curtains opened I smiled out at the audience to offer proof that my world was unchanged; comedy slays tragedy and the play goes on.
Rusty spikes of barbed wire soon tear their way through my costume and corkscrew their way into my facade. Potential pain is numbed immediately by the wild rapids of rage roaring through me and I spew my fury across the stage, striking everyone within reach. I want to destroy him. The curtains close and open … close and open. I fall to my knees as my voice, thick with emotion, rings out beyond the audience until it reaches the director and I begin a monologue I’m sure will give me back the starring role. I’ll try harder, I’ll shine brighter, I’ll be everything you want me to be. I don’t want to be replaced.
The entire house watches in silent horror as the spotlight grows dim and I crumple to the stage; a marionette with no strings. There is no light, no dark … only an empty void that whispers lies to me. He did this on purpose. Yet, I could never hate you more than I hate myself. The supporting actors move quietly around me just as a reminder that they’re there until the soft sounds of the orchestra reach my ears and I feel myself pulled close into the arms of my understudy.
His dark embrace cradles me in the spidery webs of destiny and the rattling sigh I release hangs in the air as the curtain comes down. And the play goes on….
(photo credit: Photo Le Pieta by Alberto Rugolotto)
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]Betrayal (by Rylan Hunter),