To someone

“It’s Showtime”

As the assistants parted before me like the raging tides.

While my reflection bounced off the crystal water floor upon which I walked on.

The dull anticipating silence turned into drunken cheer as soon as I stepped foot on that stage.

The stage under those lights.

The stage under that Sapphire light.

“Hello, world! Hold your breath!”

Their heartbeats by bass. Their breaths my piano. Their hopeful eyes, my instrument.

And with these, I sang my usual ballad.

Sunken eyes filled with makeup slowly woke from their rest.

Twirling my chair to see the painting before me.

Enough hair pins to make a hedgehog blush.

Dense powder to utterly shame a whole carnival.

Dressed and dolled up like a toy.

That perfect little smile.

As the stranger nodded at me, I walked to greet the blue lights with the best smile I had.

“Congratulations on another successful show.”

“You truly are the best.”

“the camera, please.”

Smile.

Wave.

Laugh.

Sing.

Dance.

…

Act.

Yes.

Keep on acting.

You faker.

You fiend.

You phony.

It feels good, doesn't it?

All those eyes on you.

Don't even try denying it.

I know.

I know how you practice in your time.

Perfecting that smile.

That look in your eyes.

Down to even your mannerisms.

All fakes.

As the curtains closed around me, handlers carried the doll back into her box, cleaned and 'preserved' until the time she was needed once more.

Your fragile porcelain face.

Your starved fingers.

Your blood-red lips.

Why do you try so hard?

Why do you still sing?

Canary.

Why do you still dance?

Marionette.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Of course.

There's only one answer, silly.

Those smiles.

Hollow empty smiles.

A step away from falling.

So what do you do?

You make them fall for you.

You phony.

You fraud.

You cheat.

With a frigid glare, your eyes soared throughout the kingdom you have written for yourself.

A concrete jungle, lit by the ruby light of the Sapphire star above.

Trees, born from Babel itself. Canopies made with faceless icons. The ground was filled with indistinct metal ants.

But don’t worry.

I understand you.

The only one that does.

It's heavy, isn't it? The weight of the crown.

You lean forward to maintain balance.

You saw it, didn't you?

The tower you have formed for yourself.

Foundations of manipulation.

Beams of deceit.

Bearings of exploitation.

Yes.

That's it.

Exploitation.

You use your 'love' to tempt them closer.

You leverage their desire.

Their calling.

To LIVE only for you.

Temptress.

Vixen.

Fox.

Every time your charm crumbles, the last thing they see is you, isn't it?

Every time they are urged to soar, they fall, don't they?

It's always you, isn't it?

The harbinger of doom.

It is your voice.

It's your melodies.

It's your cries.

You know about it, don't you?

Though you were never one to believe in ghosts, the paranormal, the supernatural.

Death is very much a thing, right?

You have heard the rumors.

People are drawn to their… next step if you will. Drawn by the people they love most.

How many did you force to fall for you?

Why don’t you just stop?

End this nonsense.

Don’t give them hope.

Don’t show them light.

Live only for yourself.

But no. You can’t do that.

Sadism?

Cruelty?

Madness?

There are no words to describe the things you do.

Oh…

Yes.

There is a word.

The evilest. The vilest thing of all.

Love.

That's why you can't stop.

Love.

That's what makes you whole.

That's what makes you tick.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Like clockwork.

You fill the emptiness within you with their smiles.

That’s why death doesn’t come from you. You're the one that delivers it.

You raise them up. Only for them to fall.

You pretend.

You act like you care.

But it's all about you, isn't it?

It's always been about you.

The Lighthouses turn and bend for you.

The stars and moon halt at your command.

Beloved by all.

Beloved by the Sapphire Star itself.

You stare at the mirror.

Hoping somebody will see you.

For who you really are.

Not a goddess.

Not the perfect beacon of life.

Not the herald of death.

Not a doll.

Not a canary.

Just you.

You.

Where are you going?

Don’t turn from me!

Ah!

So that's it…

You have decided.

Finally, you show yourself.

You finally recognized that stranger in the mirror.

Nothing more. Nothing less. Than a flawed little girl afraid to be seen as such.

But don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul.

No one.

Just you, and me, and I.

Yes.

That's how it always has been.

Myself.

No one else.

That fact has never changed.

No matter how many billboards have my face.

Or how many radios sing my melodies.

It's always the same.

Me.

Myself.

And I.

And not a single more.

Taking off the pins that held your Auburn locks in place.

The chalk that masks your little face.

The expensive frilly dress that dances in the nightly gale.

But that perfect little smile.

It somehow grew that tiny bit brighter.

As you walked towards those oh-so-familiar lights, you saw them.

The wyrms that parted in disgust.

The crystal clear floor cracked upon seeing me.

The drunken chants slowly turned into an opera of crickets.

“It's showtime.”

Yes.

You feel it.

Satisfaction.

Freedom.

Love.

You have done it.

We have done it.

You've let go.

And have fallen.

There's no turning back now.

The silence and awkward stares as your instrument.

You sang your first true solo.

It wasn’t a song of triumph, a song of a beast lashing out, or a song of loud declaration.

It was slow, melodic, and filled with a sense of mystery.

Haunting is a way to put it.

As the world bowed and turned silent for you. You have made a decision.

You won’t die.

You won’t fall.

No god will take you away from what you want.

You want someone, don’t you?

Someone willing to go with you everywhere.

Someone who you could fall with.

How wonderfully cruel. Taking somebody with you.

But that’s just like me, isn’t it?

Cruel.

Sadistic.

Vile.

All of these words are appropriate for me.

Because I took a step too far.

Because my hand took hold of something I shouldn’t have.

Is it too much to ask?

To fall with someone?