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
can't you just be you?
i don't who you're talking about.