It’s so easy to get lost
To get comfortable in the act
In the game of pretend
Of being something you’re not
Perhaps because it’s safer
Or because you are afraid of the monster behind the mask
Or maybe just because it’s easy
But acting is never really easy
That’s why actors get paid so much to do it
But who’s paying you?
Who’s paying you to betray the version of yourself that you see when you look in the mirror?
Who’s paying you to hide yourself away?
To bottle up your emotions and leave them locked away, praying for fine wine?
Honey you are the fine wine.
Break every bottle because breaking is the first step to putting yourself back together again.
Rip down the yellow wallpaper
That always drove you insane
Or at least that’s what he calls it.
You are so much more than somebody else’s consolation prize
Or somebody else’s momento
You are a roaring flame
Capable of burning every moment he made you feel small
And every man who ever will.
I waited so long for someone to find me
That I nearly forgot to find myself,
But I’m here now
No more hide and seek