I have written before of the narrative power of song as short story, in regard to Pearl Jam’s Jeremy.
In this musical flash fiction, I tried to capture the scattered confusion of a mind in pain with the un-rhymed and loosely metered verses, contrasted with the steady beat and rhyme-scheme of the determined refrains, and the thanatic march of the coda.
she woke to face another morning
__12 long hours playing back the lonely night before
if tears are blood that keep alive the soul
__the night before it seems she cried so much she’d die
she kept her hopes up for the day
__she’d have the strength to stand and say:
No more I cry! Lord, I’m ready for the breakdown.
I’ll bind my hands, to keep me heavy for the take-down.
you never know when courage comes to those who stand on edge
__looking down into an Abyss they have to face
one day, she woke up and unplugged the clock
__before her alarm could push that wheel of hers another turn
she kept her hopes up that today
__she’d have the strength to stand and say:
No more I cry! Lord, I’m ready for the breakdown.
I’ll bind my hands, to keep me heavy for the take-down.
No more I cry… Lord, I’m ready for the breakdown.
she hears a thousand voices cry inside
__of everyone she knew who never tried
__to offer her a reason she should stall
but, through their noise, she hears the Angels call
she has no Jacob’s Ladder, just a chair
__and a rope to keep her Self up in the air
__so despite the things that are trying to keep her down
when she leaves, her feet won’t touch the ground
__when she leaves, her feet won’t touch the ground
____when she leaves, her feet won’t touch the ground
she says: No more I cry. Lord, I’m ready for the breakdown.
