Lights flashing, cameras read
People waiting, the stage is set
Dark rooms and people setting up
Loneliness dwells within me
But if I do not go out, they will be disappointed
I go in my room backstage to get ready
I am so nervous
I have done this many times before
But yet I still feel so empty
I have lots of fans, yet no one close to me
I feel like an empty shell
Performing I feel alive
But when I am finished, I feel like the world is crashing around me
All the lights, all the fans, all the attention
All that goes away once the show has stopped
About the Creator
Jlynn Sheaks
I am a single mother of three beautiful daughters. I often think too much and sometimes ideas just come to me. Joined this to get my ideas, stories, and poems out there.
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Clinging to Childhood
The playground is empty, as it should be past sundown. There is a warm breeze, and I can see everything despite the late hour. What time is it, anyway? It could very well be past midnight. I can never keep track of time, especially in the summer. A prickly piece of popcorn hides like a stowaway in the left cup of my padded training bra. I stuffed the tissue in last minute— a decision I’m beginning to regret, based on the events that are unfolding rapidly before me. To my left, laying non-chalantly on his back, is my date for the evening. He is two years older, could probably grow facial hair if he wanted to, and drives a secondhand Honda. He may as well be a Man. I, on the other hand, feel like a fraud with my too-short short-shorts, sparkly lip gloss, and makeshift push-up bra. I keep my arms pinned to my sides as I feel the dreaded circles of sweat beginning to manifest on my brand new Abercrombie top. I cup my elbows with my hands and stare down at my hint of cleavage, praying that the tissue doesn’t pop out like a white flag surrendouring my lack of womanhood.
By Marti Maley7 days ago in Fiction
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