lifee

im gonna try smth new here so bare w me(＾ｰ^)

i like to write. i write a lot.. so im gonna dump smth new here and yeah

describing as light from the heavens; I'm not that of an angel. The shine, it blinds me: the spotlight it burns, searing me straight into place.. exactly like i belong there. 

Alongside the empty applauses, ill try to envision it clearly: centre stage, trapped by darkness. A bleak theatre. Where i wouldn't be able to see rows on end, shadows stretching out like open graves. 

Wouldn't it be better if no one was here? A little easier. Maybe just a little less suffocating. 

Without having to inhale the clouded views and the disappointment. 

But ill perform. I have to anyways: to say the lines, wear the mask, to radiate like ive always been told. 

And for a while, well, it'll never actually go away. Am i truly worth the matter?

It fades; the spotlight dimming, until im left in the dark, murmuring words none shall hear. And yet ill try, and try. Ill push and soar. But the light doesnt want me. 

I dont think it ever did.

Oh the silence, the emptieness. 

I wanted to scream— just to hear something real, something that belonged to me. Don’t forget me. Please. But I never said it. Who would’ve listened?

Could the mask i pose be enough as someone new?

I had worn those roles like armor, building facades so no one would see the cracks underneath.

But even now, i still feel it: the spotlight burnt into my pupils, yet cold and unforgiving, just waiting for me to step forward.

The theater is gone, but it haunts me. It’s a part of me— Ahh that desperate voice i once hear again. it craves for attention, a cry for help? 

still i plead, for a someone to tear down the stage; to pull me out before I disappear completely.

Maybe I’m still performing. Maybe I always will be.