I tore my flesh off
Ripped off my muscles
To give to you
But when you asked
For my soul
You deemed me selfish
For refusing to let it go

"
Should we just die?
But why?
Our show wanders far and wide— Through bustling streets
And eerie ones too.
Our act brings joy.
We smile,
we dance,
Juggling frowns,
masking tears,
Just to please the lively crowds.
Their cheers define our dreams,
Yet so many burdens
Hinder my act,
With each ticket sold for my demise, Trading laughter for sorrow.
My show, my stage—
A slaughterhouse.
For my show,
It makes me cry.

Yet beneath the laughter,
a voice lingers:
“Not doing good?
Did you forget
That we’re alright?
Mom values honesty, but not you.
You cherish lies,
For no one speaks the truth.
I don’t blame you.
Have you read the script?
Life is generous,
Joyously watching our shock,
For the cruel script.”

The flashing lights reveal my tears,
But I can’t see them.
Numbed by the cold,
with no warmth to cope,
Only silence screams for me.
I can’t accept it,
but the show must go on,
Because that’s what actors do—
Performing life and death
until night bleeds into day,
Just to please the crowd.
But I’m no fool,
so I bow.
I want to retire,
but they crave more—
More from my foolish act.
I wear my mask and smile,
So light yet so heavy.
I hate it,
But you tell me,
We’ll be fine,
For lies keep us sane.

My mind is a friend I never asked for.
Even if I’m mute,
you speak for me.
You love to act, right?
Playing life—
Left and right,
Far and wide.
I am proud of you
For enduring.
See that light?
Yes, I want it,
That act I can’t perform—
It’s hope,
But it feels too far,
too hard.

Lost in my head,
My only paradise,
Teetering between hope and doubt,
As bright lights
And trembling legs
Make my script fall,
Expecting me to embrace death.

The actor’s mask fell,
A broken man,
A wounded soul,
Waiting to be loved and heard.
Yet the crowd goes wild.
Awe and shock flash on their faces
As I cry on the ground,
Waiting for help.
They cheer and celebrate my fall,
My painful act.
Each applause stings my heart.
I’m scared, alone,
But you keep telling me to dance—
DanCe!
DAncE!
DaNCe!
They love my mask,
My act, and lies.
They want the show to go on and on.

I can’t take it anymore.
It’s too dark to see.
The only light I find in despair
Is the ending script,
A final curtain call,
And the credits roll.

Here and now,
Ready to end it all,
My only friend,
My lies, my head Screech their plea:
“Don’t leave me be.
The show must go on, right?
There’s more to act.
See life’s script—
Someone will perform your cherished truth,
That we are loved and cherished.
So keep lying and wear your mask until then,
Don’t do the final act.”

It deafens my ears,
Waking me from the brink of demise.

I put my mask down
And read my script.
I cry all night,
Alone,
But I read hope.
That’s how long the show is,
how hard life can be
When you hide it all
And skip the script Just for an act.
It’s not my first performance,
So I’ll be fine.
I’ll act once more tomorrow,
But for tonight,
I’ll finish my monodrama.
The show must go on,
after all.
"


-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

I often ponder and struggle
Being decisive is hard and
I tend to freeze up
In times I need to make up my mind
I tend to lose my way

The fear and anxiety
Of a future that may not be
Of dreams that may never come true
And ambitions that end up in failure
It often leaves me paralyzed

I start to regret choices
Before they are made
And I mourn
The opportunities forever lost

Things will never change
If you choose to remain stagnant
A simple fact and
A cruel truth

Moving forward requires courage
It requires a leap of faith
And the ability to believe in yourself
Thing’s I have long since forgotten

Who could have thought
Seeking change could be this hard
I cannot stop but feel burdened
By the person I’ve become
And by the person I aspire to be