I feel like crying ’til a drought is claimed,

every pound I’m losing feels like naked truth

every fear I’m feeling seeping through my skin

manifesting clearly on my unveiled face

only in the mirror staring back at me

to everyone else I seem convinced

so sure of each step, unfaltering will

no sign of tears behind my eyes

ready, at a trigger’s notice to spill;

got to keep my comedienne’s face alive

got to keep my voices finely tuned

got to keep my humor as a mask

got to keep my costume finely groomed.

Emily C. Poésie © 2016 – 2018

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s