Wednesday, 5 February 2014

This explores my obsession with showing off, despite my often crippling shyness.  Looks like I'm opening up here, if you find the idea repulsive, please pretend that it's all made up and not anything to do with a real person living or dead....or me.


Hit the lights! Centre stage.
Find the mark and never move.
Spotlight, duvet warm, secure.
Comforting and safe.
Here is where I live, I thrive.
Centre stage keeps me alive.

One hundred, one thousand, I really don't care,
A thousand  pair of eyes wrap me in their stare.
Cradling me in your casual regard
Me, holding you for a fractured moment.
Your interest not even skin deep
No-one really wants to know .... me.

I'm only here to be seen
Not to be known, not to be gleaned.
A clown, a dancing, prancing marionette,
Pirouetting, performing just for you - someone else?
A passing amusement, a gewgaw a bauble
Centre stage I am here. Right here!
You are looking right at me
But I'll never be seen.

No comments:

Post a Comment