The Bowler Hat

Amateurs. Yet, the stage, lights and sound had to be immaculate for us to perform your dance.

The audience failed to read that there was only one scriptwriter in this co-produced theatrical work. And I failed to perceive I was surrounded by superficiality.

When I came across the emptiness of your inner being, I failed to put you into my arms and tell you it was okay to be the real you. I was tired of nursing you and pampering your vain soul.

I broke the kitsch vase and was not able to glue it together. From the broken pieces emerged heavy characters, and the second act was conflictual and honest and brought with it the realisation that none of us could perform the dance we chose.

A series of betrayals and the lightness of meeting strangers brought me the escape I wished for. Stepped away, backstage, a sorrow me cried till all my tears were at an end. A scared me stood up and danced away from your judgments. I left behind everything, but my bowler hat.