I almost deserve this torment.

My mind feels empty, yet it’s circling with these heavy whirlwinds of confusion and terror.

For the first time in my life, I’ve no idea how to handle what lays in front of me.

I could just wipe my slate clean…

Pretend it doesn’t kill me.

Walk away.



Run and never look back at the tragic mess that’s the inevitable conclusion of this stage,

This stage with poor lighting, and seating for two.

I’ll let the director of this pathetic show know just how I’m feeling.

Please stop time, let me practice my lines.

I’m sick and tired of falling on my face, tripping on the wires,

Stuttering and stumbling, believing the liars.

Although, the gratification of our performances grant me permission to become consumed in you.

It’s worth it, it will be every time.

This probably won’t end well…

Let’s hold our applause.

I reserved a spot just for you, on the edge of your seat.

Hold tight and try not to cringe,

I’ll forget the “I-told-you-so’s”.

You forget the scars.

Here’s my wish upon the stars,

And here’s to hoping they don’t disappoint.

That little voice convinces me they just might.

I’ll throw on this facade and exit stage-right.