Harlequin

theatre kids

let me take centre stage and steal
the limelight, the ovation
i want a bath with pelted roses
i want our eyes to share racing comets

onstage, all eyes are peeled
for me, i make a statement
and the world sings and dances
for me until they hang on the far

ends of my strings

i'm sick of curtain call
the audience is but children
that forages for toys to clap and chitter
monkeys throw them out when
they get booooooooooooooooring.

and when you're backstage you ask
will someone love me then

if i slice myself into halves with a butcher's knife
will someone stitch me back together

if my braids entangle themselves in
a million little "i hate myself"s and self-fortified sins
will someone cut them off

if my voice swells and bursts and explodes from my throat
chords snap-snapping, withering screams
will someone down every last of it like cocoa in
the mourning morning

love letter to no one
       letter to all
let me beg to mama for someone to love me
so that i remember how to love myself.