It's lonely
On this side of the mic.
The silence, the lights, the eyes staring at you.
Can you hear it? The thundering of my heart? Desperate
To flee?
I'm sure you can,
So I smile and say hey, this is art.
Yes, my hands are shaking but
This is all part of the show.
The show!
Call me a poet as a compliment
I'll smile and accept it as a compliment
But can you hear it? The voices in my head? Wondering
Why I ever got here in the first place?
I'm sure you can,
So I smile and say hey, this is art.
This isn't my words quivering in their battle against reality.
This is all part of my charm.
The charm - of baring my self out to you,
Offering my emotions
Raw and bloody
On an aesthetic platter.
The charm - of standing in a courtroom,
Awaiting trial, with the guillotine looming in the corner of my vision.
It's scary
On this side of the mic.
The silence, the darkness, the emptiness in the faces staring back at you.

//i often wonder why it's still the closest i can come to feeling like a human//