The Show Must Go On

Theater – Silhouette _{(Credit: Steven Pisano)}

The cruelest of actions are preceded by crueler thoughts.
While even the worst among us have their limits to the horrors they will unleash upon others,
No such restrictions exist when the violence is directed towards one’s own self,
And faces from the past are turned into tormentors by a fraying mind.

The voices are twisted beyond recognition,
Coming from faces several years out of date.
The shattered memories of old souls, 
Filtered through your own misery,
Put an externality to the worst thoughts
Spawned in the darkest recesses of your own mind.

The despair and anguish then give rise to new characters,
The cruel conductor of your own misery,
And the legions under its command
Chanting with a chorus of hatred,
Boots thundering in unison to drown out the voice of reason. 
The mob is always louder, even when it is a mob of one.

The mind casts itself as both oppressor and revolutionary,
Puppeteering both sides of the conflict,
Causing nothing but destruction,
Emerging as both victor and victim,
Because a house divided against itself cannot stand.

No amount of audacious aphorisms can stop the terror
When the dark specter of your perceived inadequacies towers before you,
Relentlessly smashing their blade against the shield which you sheepishly hold aloft,
Splintering further with every word of hatred spoken in your own voice.

And you stand upon a barren stage, 
Silhouetted against the backdrop of an empty theater,
Agonized by the misery of hollow silence where there should be music. 
A singer without a song. An actor with no lines. 
Yet, your vain smile paints your face.
You dare not betray the misery within your mind.

Survival is a hollow consolation prize to one who wants to live.
Sometimes you’ve been bleeding so long,
And you’re so used to cleaning up blood
That you forget the wound can be stitched up.