#feenay

He breathed in deeply, exhaling with a sigh. This would be a performance to be remembered, yet still he stood in the darkness anxiously awaiting the opening act. He appeared upon the stage, with a smile wide and arms outstretched he would dance. The bright flashing lights blinded him, and the audience would cheer as he preformed. In grace he whirled and spun, like that of an elegant dove. His feet would move to the beat, like a trick he had perfected and done many times before. He was the only one on this stage, he’d show off everything he had kept within. No matter how much he learned, they would never respond to his shows, left a unentertaining, boring, perfect being. Embracing him was an oddity, filling his chest up with abnormality. Discarding the usual and normal, he would dance more and more. From his chrysalis he would emerge a butterfly, and become a brand new self.

“Look at me, feel me now, I’ll throw everything ordinary about me away.”

“I’ll become someone you’ll love.”

Tears rolled down his cheek, but he could not waver for had to continue on. Normality had cast a curse on him, so abnormality he yearned deeply. No more love, no more hate, beyond that he’d reach for the ruins of his tattered heart to create himself anew.

A mask he’d craft to hide truth, a loveless desire to understand the reminiscents of his old self. In his darkened room alone he’d stare into the mirror in the dead of night.

“Who are you, and who I am.”

But there would be no reply in that solemn darkness he craved. Fragments of normality, shattered beyond repair, he’d just have to go beyond sanity to reach higher.

More and more, like a starved man he’d scream and pour his heart out upon this stage. There was no more him nor anyone else left within this gloom. Dance he would, past the self loathing, he’d leave this stage an empty shell.

The weight of turmoil overtaking his chest, a pain he could no longer contain. Like a prayer, this twisted devotion would curl in the depths of his mind. Completely filled with atypicality, he would no longer be a repetitive, boring act. Over and over he’d ask his only pining.

“Did i get it?”

“A brand new me.”

“Am I entertaining yet?”

“Am I enough for you..?”

As his performance reached its finale, he danced crazily and tirelessly. Slowly coming to a close, he stood center stage, lowering himself into a bow as the crowd cheered. His ending piece was soon to come, and then he could restart his life over again. The cord above snapped and the overhanging lights would fall, crushing him underneath. The screams of the crowd as panic overcame the room were loud and consuming. A weariness would fill him, his worn body accepting the approaching demise.

“Thank you..”