The Broken Ballerina

Their delicate feet tapped, their skirts bloomed like lilies and their fingers caressed the air. The show was beautiful, ephemeral and moving. I stared in awe and hatred. My body had once been as beautiful, flexible and delicate as theirs. Those naive girls had no idea what ballet truly was, but I did. While my husband teaches them everything he taught me, I sit and wait for a concert where I don’t dance. Ritualistic torture transformed from a once loved cycle of performance. As he runs his aging hands down their taut legs I feel mine alone, disappointed. My eyes grew wide with boiling hatred, if only I could snap those precious, beautiful, young swan-like necks. Would he still love them then?

All I could think of
was my intense hate
and the wicked twist
of my own fate

There was a time
I was the star
ballerina extraordinaire
I’d gone so far

Traveled all the world
great applause I heard
how they clamored for me
hung on my every word

Look at me now
broken by this disease
I would never dance again
the doctor said with ease

Legs are so twisted
and ugly to the eye
destroyed my whole world
but wouldn’t make me die

Stuck in this wheelchair
forced to watch them dance
ate up by their beauty
as they pirouette and prance

I don’t understand why
he must torture me
can he not comprehend
why doesn’t he see?

Can’t take it anymore
time for him to pay
he doesn’t know yet
it’s his judgement day

Knife under the pillow
the preparations are made
when he goes to sleep
my pain will be repaid

When I am done
ugly he will be
as these twisted legs
that have crippled me.

Teresa Marie  9/18/11

picture it & write contribution

Dance With Me

Come with me dance
my sugar plum fairy

While we’ve the chance
let us be merry

While the snow falls
’round the sugar tree

Before winter’s end calls
dance sugar plum fairy

In your ballet sweet
through the snow glide

With bows we meet
prancing side to side

Comes the final dip
when our dance is done

As away we slip
with the setting sun.