A Letter to Your Superiority Complex

you are the product of histrionic arrogance and i am the pedestal upon which you bolster yourself.

are you capable of hesitation? when is the moment where your facial expression reacts faster than your ears can process the words that stimulated it

when the life fades from your eyes and the blood from your cheeks and the smile from your paper thin lips when and where is your moment when you are on the outside

the moment where you are the punchline of the taller mans act at this eternal comedy show 

when is it your turn to feel like me?

at what point does your facade fall short 

when does you mask stop covering the pain behind those eyes that you have so carefully cultivated to cut me like knives and swords 

knives and swords resonate from what should be an angelic laugh 

when do you get to be belittled 

i’ve taken my last bow and i’ve stumbled across the stage because acting was never for me yet it comes so naturally to you. 

stand tall and open your eyes to the damage you’ve done. the curtains are drawing back so bask in the fire you’ve set

to the audience the same fire you claim is beneath your feet and fueling your passion the fire you say has just always been burning

but i know you’re gripping the book of matches as you stroll with your nose in the air smelling for smoke so you can save the girl who lost everything in the fire that

you ignited. 

the curtains are closing. reset the stage, restart the script and let the show play out once more—only this time, bring out my understudy.