Let It Bespoken

Some almost famous actors are imitators,
Memorizing lines and affectations.
The action-cool clichéd Hollywood dude,
Shirtless gunshots and six-pack car crashes,
All facade to hide their insecurities.

But you summoned something otherworldly,
Angelic channeler, laid bare for the world to see.
Flawlessly flawed with a shadow on your shoulder,
Whispering in your ear that it held
The secret comfort you longed to touch and know.

Another great loss, too young, too soon.
So savage to be found with a needle in your arm.
The struggle even the master couldn’t conquer
A death-wish dance with the devil.

Was it all too much, or not enough at all?
Did you get to feel it all before you never felt again
Inside the bottomless burn and the rush of inebriation
on your way to Wonderland?

Three children, now fatherless, just as you were.
A karmic cycle you couldn’t break.
Will they look to you to make it rain?
When they watch your boogie nights life played out on film,
Will it lull them to sleep?

This is the moment in their lives when time stands still.
For the rest of their lives, they will long to go back
To the scene in the movie where you don’t leave them hanging
To try to stop you, to make you stay.
But it’s make-believe.

“I’m probably more personal when I’m acting than at any other time. More open, more direct. Because it allows me to be something that I can’t always feel comfortable with when I’m living my own life, you know? Because it’s make- believe.” -Philip Seymour Hoffman (1967-2014)