Ficlets

In A Performer's Head Before They Go On stage

As I am strapped in lace and tears run down my face, all I think about is everything.
The people’s minds are made up, they do not have a choice while the world is dying and I look to you for my cue.
My heart is pounding while all the decisions I make affect tonight. This isn’t right.
I turn around and run away while on the stage they’re faking gay.
My mind is made up while the people’s are changing, waiting for what’s never going to unfold.
Is it right to run away while people depend on everything from you? Asking for your everything, your nothing just to use you again?
This is the performance of my life that I will never perform.

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