Show up.

flip - she opens it up,

her laptop.

the brightness of the

screen’s last setting

almost blinding her

retinas.

tap, tap, tap

her password is short -

her night was long.

still wearing the lace

hemmed underdress -

its black sateen

smoothing her

‘flaws’.

flawed flaws

imperfect imperfections

unstable stability

stable insecurity

her bedroom: pitch black

her tights: pitch black

the night’s sky: pitch black

sitting cross-legged

(in a comfortable seat,

as her yoga teacher would say).

her body composed -

her mind exposed.

she feels so much,

she feels

so much.

she wants to show

show up

show up for herself

show up for her values

show up for her words

show up for her art.

sobs sailing

tears trailing

fears failing

her eyes: pitch black

it’s the mascara, you see.

part of the masquerade.

the mask.

she likes to wear

make-up,

every now and then.

this isn’t the point.

the mask is a

persona;

“Greek theatre -

ah yes” - she

thinks to herself.

she’s Greek -

the mask is Greek,

and her dad is too.

she despises it

she loathes it

she hates it

she detests it

she fears it

but often

she does not even see it.

why - why - why?

she cries in despair.

She needs fresh air -

storms to the window

and gasps:

I feel so much,

I feel

so much.

I want to show

show up

show up for myself

show up for my values

show up for my words

show up for my art.