Stephanie Forryan Two Steps Removed
I’m standing barefoot on the same dirty tile as yesterday But I am not the same and I could swear I’m standing in a completely different place I’ve been told I have all the makings of a crazy girl That my life has a tendency to fall apart around me more than normal And I’ve been told I have all the makings of a failure Maybe I’ll prove them wrong just to be spiteful To spite them To spite myself I am content to stand silent in the stairwell Hide on the stairway and listen to the voices that rise from below From time to time I can hear a word spoken by your voice It is softer and lower than the others Softer and lower than the others I cannot understand but I am comforted Hungry hands outstretched and open on the floor The wood is worn away, worn away By the pacers and the dreamers and the audience spectators The lights are focused on the ceiling and no one is looking at the stars All they can see are concrete slabs of grey – overcast day Her hand reaches towards the curtain and pulls it back slowly To reveal no one other than the face she saw this morning The voices are still echoing in her head, if not on the stairs The cloth pulled back, she sits on the ground, her feet are bare and no one is around It’s in moments like these peace is found And here the mirrors are covered in veils And here the faces are veiled in tears and masks And no one asks No, no one asks No one asks Because No one cares I lock myself In an empty room Where I am free to do and be the fool you made me into The windows are closed I’m the only one home In the fluorescent glow And the echoes And the echoes And the echoes And the echoes…
