Performance

I learned the lines before I learned my own name,

How to speak well and continue to play by the game,

To match the tone, to act the part,

To keep that steady rhythm within my heart.

I practiced the lines creating a lie,

How to hold my gaze and not ask why,

I keep the script pressed against my teeth,

The truth seeping from what’s covered underneath.

I’ve learned to never miss a cue,

I keep on saying what I’m told to,

I’ve stayed light and made it neat,

I smooth the shaking into something sweet.

But lately,

The endings don't end clean,

And the rhyme slowly slips,

Not enough to break the developed act,

But enough where they notice a change,

I wait,

As if the words will come back to me,

If I keep staying still,

But nothing comes,

I don't have a script to answer the question,

“Are you okay?”

I desperately reach to find the version of me,

What they came for and expect to see,

But nothing’s there except,

A voice that sounds almost like mine.

But it’s not.

They’re still watching,

I think I can fix it,

Tie it up, make it clean,

But now I don’t know how anymore.

Because I forgot,

Which part was real,

And which part,

Was the fake me.

Description:

The poem Performance shows how the pressure from society to stay composed on the outside while struggling internally can impact someone. A metaphor of acting and putting on a performance is created to show the difference between how people present themselves to the world versus the reality that hides under the surface.The poem starts off really controlled with rhyming and phrased stanzas, and when it starts breaking and becoming disorganized it signifies cracks and the rehearsed entity no longer being able to hide behind a performance. The poem portrays identity, being vulnerable, the challenge of trying to maintain a fake persona.