The Performance

Here’s another poem for my English class :)

Makeup is plastered on my face like icing on a cake;

My hair cements into a perfectly round bun on my head,

Not a single rebellious, wisp out of place.

False eye lashes like miniature wings flap heavily on my eyelids.

Whispers breeze through the curtains in the wings.

A girl’s hand gently pushes me to find my place.

Shoes scuffle through the blackness,

And chalky rosin powders the inside of my dry throat.

Arms carve into over-rehearsed positions.

My toes, crammed inside shiny satin prisons twitch,

Ready for movement to begin.

The creaking floor and a cough from the audience are the only noticeable sounds.

Eighteen elegant statues are dressed in velvet and tulle.

My cheeks burn from the heat of the stage lights that suddenly reveal us.

Adrenaline surges as the music cues.

I take a breath, look out into the crowd, and remember to smile.

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