Cue the Orchestra

it's an odd place to be, watching someone else go through the same things you have. remembering what it was like to be under the scrutiny and spotlight. having all the attention and almost burning right the fuck out from it. you do that situation well in this piece. well done.

Thank you so much for your comment :-) It is often like watching a wreck, knowing you can't stop it. Warnings would go unheeded, because people often need to learn things for themselves, and within the moment, when the adrenaline is high, and they feel invincible, they won't really hear you. Experience is so rarely transmittable through tales.

Amen.

Very deep write I can relate yes indeed I can relate
I'll have to read again.

Thanks for the read, and I appreciate the comment. Can't say I'm glad you relate, but it's always nice to feel like the words mean something.

Exactly.

Thank you molon! Very much appreciated. You know how much I enjoy the way you read your pieces, so the compliment is particularly sweet. I used to do this a bit more often, elsewhere, and after monkeying about with an older poem someone use to urge me to record, I felt really drawn to doing this one as well. So pleased you came by. Thanks again.

After first read I thought the title should have related more to the dance than the orchestra, as it’s the performers, performing, however after contemplation separating the dancers from even the title adds to the slow run down within the piece. Because it’s when the orchestra stops playing the the performers stop, it’s when they’re cued to start the performers start….
—————————————-

From shadows  
concealed in curtains of time  
and distance    
I can only watch as the dance    
begins and bursts into motion    
unfolding an old story    
of something more than lust    
because the need, the want    
is bigger than that    
    
The preamble here, is that of a former performer or stand in watching, the use of  

Shadows and concealed

hints at someone either not wanting to be seen or someone that’s not supposed to be there, time and distance allude to the first one, observing the play
not part of the audience but a part of the behind the scenes

The “bursts” adds a sense of movement/explosion to the reading

And I get a view of ballet dancers leaping and twirling, taut muscles and huge displays of power and grace simply because more than lust, greater than need  and into want, I’ve always thought want was as big as if not a bigger motivator than need, especially if you have everything you “need” then you have to want for more to strive beyond what you already have.  
——————————————————

In fluid nod to noir    
she begs for death    
little deaths at a time    
by dozens of small cuts    
desperate desire to feel the blade    
pierce parts of her      
that need a fix    
an addict in relapse    
sober lacks drama      
and drama is too much to resist      
when the knife    
is in just the right hands    

I love the  

Nod to noir alliteration is sounds just right,
“she begs for death”

Furthering your theme going from happy skipping ballerinas to something darker, it’s a tone shift and for me a colour shift in the dance/ musical score change.

Little deaths at a time for me has two seperate meanings

The la petit mort meaning
and the bits of herself she is giving over to the antagonist

You have nice pockets of alliteration scattered in this verse giving it a percussive bounce  

Nod, noir

Death, deaths

Dozens, desperate, desire, the off hit of blade at the end breaks the pattern with a near consonant sound it’s nice use of language to me,

Pierce parts of her….. if I go back and look at the little bounces of alliteration using this phrase as the starting block it would seem each pocket is an actual sonic “stab” which to me adds to the emotional impact of the section, but leave a reader feeling it rather than realising it….I didn’t know until I read this piece a half dozen times with my attempting to break it down hat on….

Sober lacks drama, a-fucking men, where’s my joint…. Sorry back to break down (cough,cough)

When the knife is in the right hands….
Now we’re peaking behind the curtain you’re peaking from so to speak, as in you know the antagonist and can empathise with the want to be there again, as if each stab to her is one you’re almost begging to take yourself…

———————————————————

There is no plan      
for the pain of after    
when all that's left is bleeding    
no bandage can stem    
her chosen assailant      
gone from the theater   

eyes wildly searching the wings    
slow dawning that the final bow    
will be solo    

This is the scene setting for the final score and it’s brutal,

Taking it all the stabbing pain of the dance the acceptance and submission to everything that happened the all of it,  

Bleeding no bandage can stem
Feels like it’s referring to emotional wounds, gut punch 1,  

eyes wildly searching the wings    
slow dawning that the final bow    
will be solo    

Gut punch two,  

The w-w-w sonic asks why, where, when using the imagery of poetics, (I know that’s a duh, moment trying to come across as profound😅)

——————————————————

It hurts to witness    
the inevitable undoing    
yet, I have no tears to give    
only dab at my own wounds    
chuckle-smirk at little bloodstains    
at my feet    
evidence that I was once    
in the spotlight too

Closing act;

Self and empathic realisation
This really speaks for itself and drive home the closing of a curtain, not on the main performers but on the one behind the curtain,  

The exhalation and the fuck, but it’s seeped in melancholy, yearning and a desire almost to be back there….

This piece is brutal and haunting honest hidden behind a cutesy narrative it’s stark and glaring with pain, empathy, understanding and self realisations,

Thanks for the read,  

Thank you for the deep dive into this. I hardly know what to say. I love the way you describe the impact of the alliterations and other sounds in the piece, and showed them to me in a way I hadn't considered while writing it. There's always that moment of "Oooo" for me when someone opens my eyes to my own writing in some way, picking up stuff I hadn't realized I was putting down.

Your closing act section really hones in on how and why I wrote this piece. It's complicated wanting something that you got to touch once, now out of reach, and reconciling all that goes with that.

I think I ended up having more to think about from your comment than I did when writing this.

Seriously, thank you for the time you spent with this. I'm truly honored by it.