Repression Poem by eve Taylor

I sometimes find,

words are difficult,

to describe,

how I feel,

perhaps,

I'm forgetting how,

perhaps,

I've forgotten myself,

perhaps,

I'll never know exact,

how to react,

when curtains rise,

I am frozen,

I am an actor,

with no cue,

so I bow away,

into shadowy backdrops,

waiting for closing,

waiting for chairs,

to be bare,

then as lights low,

with nary a glow,

I can be,

simply,

finally,

faded away,

like a fondly,

memory.