Sunday, April 10, 2016

The Performer and Her Audience

The performer and her audience

The stage is big and bright.

I look far ahead and I see nothing.

Only a ray of glaring light onto my presence on stage.

All of these eyes on me but I hope for those pair of eyes.

I make my strides, very slowly, hoping that if I’m slow enough, you notice me.

There you are, I see you amongst the audience, though it’s dark beyond the stage.

I fly with each heartbeat that I make, I’m fast and I’m slow, hoping that you will understand.

I move to the rush in my veins, the warmth on my neck, the moisture above my lip, I feel it all.

I cry during my forth stanza, but actually at the thought of how everything started between us.

I stare into the darkness and I think to myself, why does it hurt so badly now?

I shrug down to my toes, knowing you don’t explain, I exhale heavily.

The crowd is cheering at my agony and I see you leaving your row.

We are breathing the same air but it’s not the same anymore.

It’s been weeks since the show but I still see you in your seat.

It might be because I didn’t see you neither clapping

Nor yawning at the end of my performance.

Instead, you left while I was performing.

I love performing, you know that.

But you just left.