The cinematics only show what the director wants you to see
I dream of that much control over what people consume of me
Exposed to the highest transparency with no filters
Hiding in plain sight for the audience to judge
Choice by choice, knowing I can't hide the mistakes
Holding in the tears that slip out in between sharp breaths
My smile only fades when I'm alone in my car
Sobs escaping as I reach for end of the film
Waiting for a "The End" to come through the dark screen
It just keeps shifting to a new shade of blue
Another sad story about to unfold to be absorbed
Whoever the director is of my film needs to cut to the credits
No more to be seen
Nothing left
Faded to black