The Smell of Solitude

The following poem was written after I had gone through the unforgettable experience of acting in the play “the Slaughter” directed by a dear friend Alaa Minawi. The picture attached though was the curtain call of another play I acted in, “Dangerous Angels” directed by another friend Layal Salman.

Photography credited to Charbel Saade.

The smell of solitude,

drowned by footsteps from afar.

My heart beating like a drum

Against my chest,

I feel the energy floating into the claustrophobic air

The smoke dazzling my closed eyes,

While the sounds start raping my ears.

The doors are open, and I realize

My vulnerability

My weakness against their eyes

Every movement counts

Every word uttered holds my destiny within its hand,

And I feel the exhilaration pumping through my veins.

My hands shiver, but I beg they won’t see

I must remain still,

I must never indulge their eyes with a distraction

I must never make them realize my existence,

Not yet.

The clock ticks, and their sounds begin to dim.

I feel their existence,

I feel them floating inside my blood.

The lights go out, and I become the object of their sight.

It is time.

I wait for the moment, where I open my eyes,

I make my movement a purpose for their pleasure

I open my mouth releasing words I long wanted to utter,

And I beg my soul to deliver them truthfully,

I speak the lines they most want to hear,

And add nothing more to my conviction.

I walk knowing their eyes are scrutinizing

I speak knowing their ears are straining to hear,

And I fear their whispers as I return to my imposed posture.

I finish my words, and I walk away

Leaving the impact to take its full.

I hear their clapping, and feel their entertainment

Filling me pleasure I long wanted to feel

They cry and so I laugh.

I smile at their tears,

For I have served my purpose,

And my mission is done.

I bow to them, thanking their eyes,

And I take my leave, hoping I remain

An inspiration for a minute or two.

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One thought on “The Smell of Solitude

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