After the Show
There is a corpse beneath my skin,
the cadaver of a character I played.
I feel necrosis setting in
as the different pieces of the part break down:
the bones composed of motives, actions, goals,
left to fratricidal osteoblasts;
the muscles give in to inertial arrest;
and my painted Janus face stripped away by wash.
I would save you if I could.
You only lived while others watched.