iii.|ballet

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❛1,2,3,4❜.... (deep breath).
❛1,2,3,4❜....(shaky hands).

The counts
      to keep us in line.
The counts
       to remind us we're fine.
The counts
        that they once said will keep me from crying.

These counts,
or these people one of them's lying
but it's fine I'll keep on trying.
But now I count in ballet...

                              Chassè.
                                slow flows,
                                  breath in and out
                                   But panic,
                                 panic is the only art I
                            p o r t r a y.
                       Wounds that sprung out
                    from my soul to lure me,
                      that even when gore,
                        I can conquer the sour
                          and because this is the way,
                               I let the music play.

                 Pirouette     ҉
                The twist and turns,
               not from the beauty of ballet.
            But from my insane
           little chamber.
        This chamber,
        that replays all the commotion
          and stops me from slumber
           So when at 4 a.m
            my demons have nothing else
             to torment me on
                I begin to ponder,
                  I begin to wonder.

                        Soutenù.
                    Let's look on the menu.
                Everything looks inviting
             but nothing makes me
          want to start this life a new
              I take a deep breath and glissade
                 'Cuz obviously I have to decide
                      But my anxiety
                         has caught up with me
                            I rub my sweaty palms
                             together and settle for tea

                                  Developpè.
                                   I've developed the art
                                    of making every
                              single thing less exciting
So I wear my pointed shoes and fouettè.
              Here I'm supposed to put this
           thoughts behind,
         create a positive mind.
                   So again I say I'm fine,
                      smile and leap
                           even though I still feel
                              half blind.

                             Pliè.
                Almost the last day of May
    Mother doesn't reckon me being insane
so she'd say, ❛stop soaking in your sorrow
and please wake up early tomorrow❜
I want to, I really want to
     Oh dear lord do I wonder
        Why I fell among the unlucky few.

                                         Tèndu.
                                      I sigh knowing
                                     how this will go.
                                  So when the therapist
                             asks me ❛how do you do?❜
                        ❛You've reached
                       the very last step I see?❜
                         I curtsy.