Sometimes,

I feel like a magician.

Always making things look like what they aren't,

when really,

it's all just an illusion.

The worst nights

are when the crowd already
knows the trick.

Eventually,

everybody hears about it,

the trick.

You must retire that one,

and now find a new trick

before the next show.

You can handle it the first few times,

but you aren't prepared for what comes next.

You aren't prepared to watch
the illusion you've spent your
whole life creating,
fall to the floor.

You are the only thing left,

you're scared,

alone,

and the worst part is that,

you're exposed.

you have no mask

to hide your dull eyes.

you have no tissues

to dry your tears.

It's all out there.

You have no bracelets

to hide your scars.

the ones lined

and ringed

around your wrists.

You have no fake smile

to hide the scars on the inside.

So,

what now?

You've been stripped of

everything you know.

Will you take your final bow,

and leave your life behind?

Or,

will you try once more

to reconstruct the debris

that you used to call your life?

That,

is where I stand.

But,

I'm sick of all the illusions,

the acting,

the hiding.

But that's as far as I get,

before remembering that

hope,

is the real illusion...




Right?