Like a circus that holds a claustrophobic spin of questions closed up for a day that never comes.

Clowns that dance and mock their emotions with a flower of doubts, petals dropping to the floor.

Trapeze of swooning emotions that rise to an unbelievable applause and take an instant drop to agony.

Flashing colors in forms of painted faces, eyes surrounded by the darkness of a restless midnight.

A fire in their soul, a fire that dangerously swings around far too close to their own confessions.

Confessions and selections of who they want to be, who they wish they were, who they try to pull off.

Those young souls feel the eyes of a million people, a crowd that is nowhere near where they stand.

Manipulation is pulled in stunts that are meant as a show beneath a tent of impression and popularity.

A ticket of numbers to be accepted, a ticket to be acquainted with those they wish were familiar.

Then when the tent is let down, the stripes and zigzags of blindness – when the masks are finally dropped.

Midnight becomes the minds only friend, for the silent prying eyes have all exit and left their commented remains.  

The mask is shattered, and a real person is revealed, a soul with emotions as precious as the orbs of light above.

Only, that orb of light only has a few hours to pull the pieces of their mask back together before they feel the need.

The need to impress, the need to become more than they are, the need to put on a smiling mask.

A mask of eerie wishes, a mask of hopeful friendship, a mask that lies, a mask that grins like a clown.

If only the masked mind could see what the others see.

Not someone who is in the role of impressing but a person swinging in the sky.

A person who swallows fire with a stubborn strength and raises an army of misfits just through a smile.

Only that masked mind is stubborn in doubt as well, stubborn in what they believe they see.

Traveling around with their demons called freaks, the freaks that they own and send out to put on a spectacle.

Laughing and frowning is not a choice for that masked mind, for those eyes are watching only for the crowd.  

Eyes with a mind that is masked in misfits, a mind that is caught up in a carousel of chaos.

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COPYRIGHT © 2020 Jade M. Liljenquist (Unauthorized use or adaptation of any original content on this blog is strictly prohibited.)