I am still angry over the memories I never got to make
Of a youth wasted chasing interstates
Performing an act that never seemed to be good enough
Walking a balance beam to earn a love that was never going to be mine
Trying to juggle all the things I was supposed to be

You were always too quick to notice any ball I dropped
Watching for any time my feet weren’t quick enough
Or my smile was too crooked
My performance was never quite convincing enough

I can still taste the bitterness of your disappointment
It smells like spilled rum and coke, a dash of secondhand smoke
Your harsh laughter still haunts me
A reminder that the only thing you’ll ever believe is that I’m your punchline

I was never meant to be in the circus
I don’t want to be your clown anymore
Because nothing about this emptiness is funny
Just another gifted kid with nothing to show for it but high school trinkets and accolades

Even now when I see you, I paint on my smile
Bury our differences in well packed baggage
Pretend that you didn’t use your own trauma as a knife to cut me with
Maybe I made the scars, but your cruelty was the motivation

Our interactions are still performances, parts we both play
I wonder if there will ever be a curtain call
If I’ll ever retire my jester’s hat, if you’ll ever change your ways
I think we both don’t know how to quit, too stuck in years of push and pull

So, I’ll dance for you, sick with the past
And you’ll pretend to clap
We’ll pretend again
And again, and again, and……….