one-woman show
A Free-Verse Poem
I have lived my life like a viewer
Never breaking the fourth wall
I was not to be seen, not to be heard
I silently critique the performer
Who failed to reflect the raw authenticity of me
It is no longer able to blind me
Her facade has weakened.
Was she a happy child? or simply complacent
Complaining could mean facing displacement
She once desired to be perceived,
As she got older, the stage lights grew brighter
Bound by an invisible contract,
Anxiety became her overbearing producer
Give the people what they want!
Just smile and be kind,
Somewhere in between the lines,
The lines became blurred
Morphing into someone unknown,
She began to shrink, posturing with her herd
If this is them, then who am I?
Self-deception fills her head with lies
One by one, the flock began to shy away unscathed
Leaving her lonesome,
Filled with absorptions of perceptions,
Until I forgot my own.
I am jaded,
Things I once cared for have little to no importance
The only thing I wish for is an accurate performance,
To fall madly in love with oneself
To be seen at the core of my being
With an unshakable identity,
That is not dependent on what the viewers
May or may not be able to see
To rid myself of those lies once whispered
To find peace in those truths.
To simply be.