nervous. the crowd
about to deflower me.
staring eyes,
expecting...
the unknown.
am i two-bit?
or am i...
legitimate?
they'll never tell.
applause is
a courtesy. kind souls
but i need to know
the truth.
mouth is dry,
hands are sweating.
ironic, isn't it?
how situations
of the imagination
can drive the sane
to the very edge...
of psychosis.
i'm ripping my hair
out inside. screaming
for answers but
they have
no tongues
to speak from.
1 comment:
this one is so fabulous.
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