(no subject)
Lights, camera, action.
It's all on you.
Every line is memorized,
every sob little story has been rehearsed to perfection.
The goal is control tonight.
The audience is waiting,
begging,
down on all fours, tongues hanging out to hear the 'victims' tale.
You want them to be your victim this evening.
You start to speak, slowly but surely to keep the audience on their toes.
One slip up, one missed line, one fumble, and you will have lost them.
But you execute those lines with such passion,
such blind hope that these idiots will buy it; buy you.
You end your monologue with triumph
"this is it fuckers" you think to yourself;
this is what everyone, no, what you have been waiting for.
...nothing.
You look around and you see nothing.
No audience, so slam-bang finish,
just a girl on an empty stage.
And the bright light that was once pointing to you,
seems to be following a shadow.
If 'all the world's a stage' then you are just an actress who believes is fooling everyone;
but is only fooling herself.
You start to speak only in a whisper .
You talk to the floorboards, the curtains, the stale gum on the back of the chairs.
No one can hear you.
And all the while you're talking, hoping someone will care,
ever word you spit out gets caught in the cobwebs in the attic,
and the spiders eat them alive.
For you are their victim tonight.
shitty.
It's all on you.
Every line is memorized,
every sob little story has been rehearsed to perfection.
The goal is control tonight.
The audience is waiting,
begging,
down on all fours, tongues hanging out to hear the 'victims' tale.
You want them to be your victim this evening.
You start to speak, slowly but surely to keep the audience on their toes.
One slip up, one missed line, one fumble, and you will have lost them.
But you execute those lines with such passion,
such blind hope that these idiots will buy it; buy you.
You end your monologue with triumph
"this is it fuckers" you think to yourself;
this is what everyone, no, what you have been waiting for.
...nothing.
You look around and you see nothing.
No audience, so slam-bang finish,
just a girl on an empty stage.
And the bright light that was once pointing to you,
seems to be following a shadow.
If 'all the world's a stage' then you are just an actress who believes is fooling everyone;
but is only fooling herself.
You start to speak only in a whisper .
You talk to the floorboards, the curtains, the stale gum on the back of the chairs.
No one can hear you.
And all the while you're talking, hoping someone will care,
ever word you spit out gets caught in the cobwebs in the attic,
and the spiders eat them alive.
For you are their victim tonight.
shitty.