Burning Curtain

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I stepped behind the curtain,

not liking what I saw.

It's hard to be someone

when I'm no one at all.

 

Seven billion and counting

turns me into a ghost.

I count on my ten fingers

the ones I like the most.

 

Behind the curtain I realized

I didn't belong to the world.

I belong to myself and to

the lives where I'm unfurled.

 

Tired of being a ghost, I wrote

until my brain stopped thinking

and my heart stopped feeling.

Life outside began shrinking.

 

Outside the curtain I thought

I could be seen. But outside

is no different from behind.

My existence lingers worldwide.

 

Whether behind the curtain,

or on the center stage,

we still feel someone's tears

or hear their fit of rage.

 

I set the curtain on fire,

I burst it into flames

to show it never mattered.

There are no more games.

 

If I want to sing, I'll sing.

If I want to write, I'll write.

No curtain could cover me

enough to stop my fight.

 

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