be still my beating heart (poem)

I feel like an actor
in someone else’s play
speaking lines and thinking
at a director’s command
only he doesn’t know
who I am and where I am to go
I just bow and I crow
and I walk where I am told
nothing makes sense
I am a stranger in my own life
like a costume I put on
not real skin just rose coloured fluff
and I tell my beating heart
to be still
to be quiet
to just shut up
landscapes passing me by
people’s faces a blur
a train of thought
just gone with an unfriendly wind
leaves falling from trees
flowers blooming in spring
the snows of winter
the heat of summer
nothing is real
all a set in a life that isn’t mine
all an act in a play I didn’t write
a paying audience
sitting out there
waiting for the punch line
for the final act
but I don’t know the script
don’t know how it will end
just that it’s not me
it’s someone else dressed up
or maybe it’s me in a suit
to look like you
eating your lines
clawing my way
through every day
hoping to find
the end of the tunnel
so I tell my beating heart
to be still
to be quiet
to just shut up
the end can’t be far
this must be the third act
and then I can finally leave
and go off the stage
to some new world beyond.

© Sybille Sterk

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be still my beating heart (poem)

Sybille Sterk

Cambridge, United Kingdom

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Poem

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