So good at the act that you forget what’s true.
So good at pretending that the unreal becomes real.
What you feel is under your control.
You can simply act it away.
A mask of neutrality.
Leads you to believe you might actually feel it.
You can ignore your feelings.
You can act forever.
Yet at some point, the inevitable curtain comes down, and the performance ends.
You are left with you; and the feelings you’re pretending aren’t there.
If only for a moment.
The act is over.
What then?
Who are you when your truth has space to be?
The question, terrifying.
Its answer even more so.
It lies in love and the shape of it.
What does your love and care look like when there is no performance to mask it?
photo credit: Ania
