Imagined Audience

Performance in solitude
My locked up room
white walled sparsely decorated
Find eyes in the mirror and lose myself in it
I am a stranger staring at a strange girl
with dreams even she doesn't believe
Though her work has a beauty
she doesn't have the talent or the resolve to create amazement
All her life has become attempts to communicate and entertain
search for an audience her fear always runs from
She loses them in the lines and planes of her hands,
the candy paint covering her nails,
and the small glares and shadows along the floor
And she's afraid of her stomach’s urge to paint it in vomit
Her coffee was a mistake that morning,
waking her stomach and alerting her mind
to perceived danger in an imagined audience