the curtains are drawn, the spotlight is lit

the heat is on, can you handle it?

a million eyes, a million half-truths

staring you down

the sweat drips down the backbone you never had

just a passing reminder of everything you can't be

you take a few steps down

trampling this cliche metaphor with every step

you're a step away from perfection

pause, and you'll be over

layers of chiffon hide the only thing you've got left

not a heart, no

who would want one of those?

too heavy, too fragile, too meaningless

when the floor rushes up to meet your head

it finally occurs to you that you might as well be dead

oh dear, oh my, her insecurities and her pills have spilled onto the floor

my princess,

can't you just be you?

but prince,

i don't who you're talking about.