Without you...

How many nights so bright
shall I wander through
without you?
How many days so grey
must I spend
until my heart starts breaking?
How long must I travel on?
How shall I go on?
Without you....
Without you...
I cannot see the end
I cannot find a friend
I cannot breath again
until I'm with you
I cannot wait
I cannot stand up straight
I cannot live another moment
without you....

Woes for the diva

What's the diva to do when she hangs up the crown?
Where does she go when she can't find her crowd?
Woes for the diva who cannot hold her head high...
Ode to the diva who's head is in the sky.
She cannot look in the mirror long enough to fix her makeup.
She doesn't recognize her face.
It's not the one she had before.
Who is that staring back?
No one knows.
She doesn't know.
She has forgotten how to spell out what she needs without another person's words.
She cannot love for long and she cannot love just one.
This diva surrounds herself with many different lives, different loves, different arms, different words.
The diva is a complicated, overrated, degraded shell of her former self.
Where has the diva gone?
No one knows.
They saw her last week, around the corner, down the street.
Or so they say.
They can't truly be sure if it was indeed her since she disappeared so quickly.
But it must've been her.
But why would a diva cry?
This diva has all emotion, but cannot convey how she feels.
The diva finds her way to the bottom of the bottles and other's heels.
This diva is out of touch with reality, running from its harsh beams.
She doesn't care what morals are or where you come from.
She'll treat you just the same, and put you out with others when she's through.  
She needs direction, she needs bright lighting.
She needs someone there to cue her, to dress her, to pursue her.
She needs her medicine, her addiction.
Woes for the diva who cannot hold her head high...
Ode to this diva who is only living out a lie.

Another time, another place

Another time, another place
Another song, another embrace
It's all too fresh
My soul's turmoil
I spiral downward as I lose control
I shove past the bottles and sink into withdrawal
Another time, another place
Another song, another embrace
You smile in the red light,
My late night tears,
All becoming a blur
Terrified you'd kiss me
Wishing that you would
Another time, another place
Another song, another embrace
I am truly alone in this madness
I have lost my drug, separated
I am losing myself in my mind and the eyes of others
Though I lost myself already in your words and smile

Me

 I'm Tahrea.
I am an Aries.
I am in love with one amazing guy...
I am a SERVER at the Tuscan Table.
I am a Ghost Hunter with BSPHI.
I am a Drama Queen.
I am the Musical Theatre Instructor for the Charmion Performing Arts Center.
I am obsessed with theatre.
-------
I love to talk.
I love to sing.
I love to act.
I love chinese food.
I love my friends.
I love going to the GroveCity Steak-N-Shake at 11 pm at night with my friends.
I love laughing. Loudly.
I love God.
I love live.
-----
I believe in God.
I believe in Prince Charming.
I believe in Fairy Tales.
I believe in Karma.
I believe in doing what is right, not what is easy.
--------
I have been out of America.
I have a sister and two  brothers.
I have big boobs.
I have an australian shepherd.
I have a great singing voice.
I have a fabulous personality.
I have many talents.
I have no idea what I'm doing.

My current frustration and opening night (Opening NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT. It's Opening NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!)

I hate Writer's Block. It sucks even more since life has given me tons of material lately, but my muse isn't giving me the clarity I need... This sucks majorly since I find writing poetry so therapeutic and healing. All I can do is look over poems I written in the past and just say "Yup, been there, done that." ARGH. It is so frustrating. I start writing something only to delete it, yelling at the screen because it didn't help conjure up exactly what I wanted it to say in the most eloquent and poignant way possible. I'd kill for a good metaphor right now........... The worst thing is knowing that inspiration could hit at any stupid moment like when I'm onstage in the middle of a show or during a busy lunch rush or when I'm driving. Any stupid moment when I can't grab a pencil and my poetry journal and just go to town. DOUBLEARGH.

In other news, No Exit opens tonight at 8 pm. I am really excited to see how an audience responds. Britt had an old friend come in and he seemed to really like it. Or he was the greatest actor in the history of EVER. We shall see...

A monologue from Company

Right after I got to college, a friend of mine who has a garden apartment gave me a cocoon for my dorm room. He collects things like that... caterpillars, insects, and stuff... It was attached to a twig, and he told me that one morning I'd wake up to a beautiful butterfly flying around my room when it hatched. He said that when they first come out, they're soaking wet and there's even a tiny little speck of blood in there -- isn't THAT fascinating -- but within an hour they dry off and begin to fly. Well, I told him I had a cat. I had a cat then. But he just said, "Put it somewhere where the cat can't get it!" which is impossible, but what can you do? So, I put it up on a ledge where the cat never went, and the next morning it was still there, at least so it seemed safe to leave it. Anyway, about a week later, very, very early this one morning, the guy calls me and says, "April, do you have a butterfly this morning?" So I put down the phone and managed to get up and look, and sure enough I saw a little wet spot, and a tiny speck of blood, and... no butterfly. And I thought, "Oh, dear God in heaven, the cat got it." I picked up the phone to tell the guy, and just then, suddenly, I spotted it underneath the dressing table. It was moving one wing. The cat had gotten it, but it was still alive. So I told the guy, and he got so upset and he said, "Oh, God, April, don't you see that that's a life? A living thing?" So I got dressed and took it to the park, and I put it on a rose. It was summer then, and it looked like it was going to be alright; I thought so, anyway. But that man... I felt so damaged by him -- awful -- that was just cruel. So I got home and called him back and said, "Listen, I'm a living thing too, you s***head!" I never saw him again.

My current insanity....

My life is non-stop. I no longer possess that which normal people refer to as "FREE TIME." I'm not even sure that's how it's spelled anymore. I somehow have become as busy as a.... a soccer mom. MINUS the soccer and mom part, multiply the busy  by two. I'm constantly on the go. If I'm not getting ready for play practice or a board meeting I'm going to church, worship rehearsal, or teaching class. Or I'm going to see someone else's show. OR I'm going to RTP to fill ticket orders. OR I'm memorizing lines. Or I'm at work. Or I'm driving. Or sleeping. Or getting showered and dressed, preparing to do any of the aforementioned activities/duties. And you know what... I love it. I love the stress. I love the go, go, go of my life. It can put a strain on having time to just hang at home and get housework out of the way, and time with my family can be sparse.  But I've been blessed with a family who is almost as busy as I am, so they get it completely. I've conditioned myself over the past six years to the point that I can't go too long without doing something. I sit and have nothing to do for very long; I go into withdrawal. lol. I'm sure it's no surprise that I enjoy the insanity. :o)

You bring me up
you bring me down
make me your cross
make me your crown
I never know which way to go
I'm never quite clear on where you are
You frustrate me
you drive me crazy
I'll try to leave but you always bring me back