Staged
People always ask me why I like acting so much
why I crave the burning lights, the eyes of a crowd lost in indistinguishable
shadow.
People always ask me how I got so good,
why the characters pour out of me like a river flooding over onto the
banks above.
I always smile and say it comes naturally,
that I learned it from many years of careful practice and purposeful
imitation.
What they don’t ask is where I practiced or what it is I practiced.
But they needn’t for although they don’t know, it is them who
I practiced for.
For every day I rehearse the careful art of pretending, masking that which is inside to match
all that is without.
And my skills proved impeccable as they each believed the lie, believing I was just as fine as
my lips said I was.
But every smile, every laugh, every little nod,
each one a mask to keep it all inside.
I am the best actress I know, for every moment of everyday I am
performing for the world.
For me the mask only falls there upon the stage, where the blurring lights and empty air reveal what
lies inside.
When there is nowhere to run, nothing to shield me.
There and only there am I truly me.
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