lights hit the sequins
dazzling
spinning into air
dizzying
distracting your eyes
the dancer
romances the music
until it is pliable
and bends
to her rhythms
the ringleader booms
bantering cadence
demanding
your attention
the jester’s laugh
punctuates the pause
between jokes
and japes
the aerialist dangles
suspended on breath
as she reaches
for hope
the lion tamer
cracks the whip
seeking respect
to replace fear
the audience roars
to their feet
the stands rumbling
beneath them
hungry
i leave the show
fatigued
worn
depleted
sleep doesn’t come
as my brain spirals
downward
into the anxious waters
of the aftermath
i am the show
it is the mask worn
when i am seen
by others outside
my walls
it is the cover story
of the little girl
who learned
to avoid the hurt
you performed
a stellar act
and always left them
wanting more
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