The Act Poem by lia bee

it all begins when i wake up and the morning light floods my room
i crawl out of bed still tired and go into the bathroom, with each careful step,
i begin my tranformation, the sleep gone from my eyes, my mask begins to form
as make up is applied and my hair is done i force my smile in the mirror
making sure its convincing, for a performer cannot show anything that isnt part of there character
iv played her for many years now and at times it is quite fun
iv played her for so long that we have almost become one
but at times when everyone is gone and it is just me in my room my act slips every so slightly
and my composure becomes undone
the me i was when i was younger begins to show her self
and it seems she has matured too
as the pain is more intense
but i wonder late at night before i go to sleep
which of these complex people is the real me
i dont feel comfortable in all my pain
but i cant play the happy go lucky card everyday
i have come to the conclusion that i have mixed with both
but still the show goes on
as what would people think if i were to come undone in front of them
the thought is a fear i would rather not address
but when i fall asleep these thoughts leave til the next nicht and the very next morning i begin again