A cacophony of wailing cunts.
A spotlight illuminates centre stage.
Entertaining a humiliation by the capless dunce.
The buzz exhumes the star inside.
A riotous laughter draws to a chatter, then a whisper.
The curtains draw, the light gets dimmer.
As you exit the stage, existentialism enters.
A seed that’s felt the light sees darkness clearer.
It screams and writhes in mediocrity’s cage.
It begs you to feed it’s addiction.
To thrive in the golden warmth of a crowd’s embrace.
To suffer the blueness between each show’s interspace.
The crowd sourcing of self worth and esteem.
The highs and lows the most supreme.
About the Creator
Tommy Ballard
I'm a professional writer, a poet, a digital artist and an amateur musician. In my free time, I can often be found pondering magnets, breaking and entering random homes to steal locks of human hair and throwing car batteries into the ocean.
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I have been taking some time away from writing. I haven't forgotten about Vocal, the truth is I just have been too busy pursuing other things to write online and honestly, my little family and I just had a really hard month between the flu and a weird eye infection/cold circulating our house. I'm currently sipping some warm peppermint tea because my throat is sore.
By Chloe Rose Violet 🌹5 days ago in BookClub
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