The performer performing her third eye

Firecrackers fizzle,

Purple mist fades from view.

The show goes on.

I turn and face my memories of being a child

Cleansing and make believing.

Unraveled, bunched into the corner pretending I’m fine.

*applause*

Casting myself as the star.

Needing to be the center.

I’ve only ever existed wounded, 

So I’ve only ever dreamed of devotion. 

PG

Published by PG

Writer

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