A star is born.

The lights. The applause. It all seems like to much. And everything at the same time.

I stare at the audience and wonder if this is really what I want. I think back to her. I wouldn’t be here without her, but how I wish I was here with her. When I was offered this opportunity I took it without a single thought. Until now. This was her dream not mine. She was the one to tell me to take my first audition. She said to get us there, she said she would meet me halfway. She was the one who I carpooled with to choir. She was the one who said “Join! We can do it together! My mom will drive us. I want to do it… but not alone.” I was the one who pressed play on the karaoke machine. I was the one who applauded at the end of every song she performed in her basement. I was the one who said she had the best voice I ever heard. Our roles switched. I never thought I was a good singer. Until I tried choir. Until I auditioned. Until I took the record label. This was her dream, not mine. This was my best friends dream, and I’ve completely forgot.

—

I look at Clara. She looks amazing on the stage. I wonder if anyone here knows our story. I wonder if she remembers. I do. That’s how I catch it when she starts to cry. I know her. And I’m proud. Yet I wish I could be there with her.

Amidst the roaring applause, a silent tear fell, reflecting the untold story she could never tell.

The lights twinkle and shine down on my face Framing my movement with grace and poise Every Leap and Piruette Every Pointed toe but not the struggles the pain or the Heartache My pain nearly preventing me from gliding turning and leaping across the stage The hard wooden stage supporting my every move The thick planks tightly screwed together to hold the weight of me and of the world I start my routine My shoes making muted clunky noises as I land my jumps The shoes on my feet aiding my every movement The shank digging into my heel and the box in the toe threatening to give out any second Thrugh the pain I go on Moving across the stage my body begins to ache and my heart begins beating faster The crowd is mesmerized by my Performance They throw Roses of Red, White and Pink sending them to cascade down in front of me The music slows too ease to a stop I curtsey and the crowd erupts in applause Silently tears begin streaming down my face as they continually applause I cry because they can never know That I dance to stay alive I dance because of my messed up body I dance because not moving Can lead me to a slow painful death I fear that someone will know I fear that they can see my tutu shaking or see my heart beating much to fast through my leotard or my Labored breathing as I panic in an attempt to catch my breath But no one can know Because Ballerinas Are Perfect

Amidst the roaring applause, a silent tear fell, reflecting the untold story she could never tell.

Her story was twisted, and you could never know just how far that girl will be able to go.

She played with her heart, but which side of it controlled? The smiling and joyful or the sad and cold?

You heard the strings play a beautiful symphony, but did you hear the silence when she didn’t agree?

As you clap away, just know she’s a shattered soul. And for exactly what you see. She’s not in control.

The beauty of her song; the weight on her chest. Only one comes out and claims the prize for best.

Her fingers have callouses, her brain is in scrambles for playing too long of delicate samples.

She always held her breath and closed her eyes. And she knew that she could never fight her demise.

She did it for the people to please the ones she loves. She hid her scars behind those little white gloves.

You can’t see the pain of the little strings. You can’t see what has happened to her for those little things.

I watch their twirls Leaps, jumps I watch it all I watch their perfect body’s glide through the air Their hair gorgeous and silky Their faces beautiful and smooth I remember those days Those days when I was a dancer When my every move could depict a story When wrinkles didn’t define my face And age hadn’t caught me Making my skin look like worn leather As they take their final bow The audince risises Applauds echoing through the room I’m happy for them truly Even though a salty tear streaks down my face I know they feel what I once did The adrenaline, the nerves Everything and nothing all at once Even though my wrinkles are scars And my age just a shield I put up to hide the truth I’m happy Not for me But for them

I’m not really sure what this poem is supposed to be about lol it’s rly up to interpretation

The crowd was going wild suddenly there was Amidst the roaring applause, a silent tear fell,reflecting the untold story she could never tell. When she woke up she was alone in the circus, like nothing had happened yet thinking back to what had happened, she remember doing acrobats and falling off something high. Suddenly a sharp excruciating pain went through her left arm. She was in agony and started to cry in silence. Untill she still managed to get up and packed her stuff vowing never to go back. As she walked passes the man, he had asked her what happened, and if she was alright and she said she doesn’t want to be in the circus any more because it was getting overwhelming for her to train and practice everyday without a break. She wanted to start a new life somewhere far away from that.

On the stage of life, she danced with grace, Twirling in the spotlight, a beaming face. Each step told a tale of joy and strife, A ballet of battles on the dance floor of life.

She moved with a rhythm everyone could hear, To those who watched, her happiness was clear. A radiant smile always on her face, But her heart, a baron place, where only shadows embrace.

In the masquerade of joy, she wore her mask, Wondering how long her performance could last. But no one ever asked, so she’d never tell, She danced on, hiding the pain that she felt.

The crowd watched on, enraptured by her art, Unaware of the shadows in her heart. With every leap, she soared above her tears. Such a perfect pirouette she’s spun for all these years.

As the final act drew to a close, She took her bow, in poised repose. Among the roaring applause, a silent tear fell, Reflecting the untold story she could never tell.

She grinned, the cold air rushing through her tangled brown hair. The horse, steadily increasing speed. She crouches on the saddle feeling the rythm of the hooves, feeling the familiar sensation of her horse koda. her bare feet cool against the leather.The audience watches intently, children watching in anticipation. Slowly the girl extends her legs standing on the white speckled horse. She drops the reigns and the horse slows to a walk, trotting around the ring, the warm sunset shines a golden light on the girl’s smile. Slowly she transfers her weight to her hands, kicking her feet in the air, her spine curving over her head, feet dangling over her face. Koda still at a steady trot. Amidst the roaring applause, a silent tear fell, reflecting the untold story she could never tell. She sat back down on the saddle, suddenly reminded of her home. As she brings Koda back to the trailer, she strokes his head. “You’re the only one I’ve got left.”

Blood dripped down her arm as she hung over the cliff. “You have to let me go.” She pleaded, “Just let me go.” Zane just tightened his grip, “We got this far, I’m not giving up now.” Ayra struggled to gain purchase on the rock wall, “You’re injured Zane, you can’t keep holding on.” “You don’t get to give up, not now. You’ve sacrificed to much. There’s too much at stake.” Zane dragged her up another inch. Ayra found another foothold and tried to push herself up but slip an slid down again. Zane gasped in pain as he held on. Tears stung Ayra’s eyes. How much longer could they both survive this. The night grew darker around them as Zane fought against the spell trying to claim them. As Ayra became more exhausted she stopped trying to find footholds and climb out. When he saw the that Arya was giving up, Zane been chattering about random things, trying to encourage both of them. “How can you talk about food at a time like this,” Ayra snapped, so exhausted she barely knew what she was saying, “I suppose this whole effort is a joke to you. I should have known, you are the tyrant’s son after all.” Zane didn’t respond, he only redoubled his efforts to pull her up. “Nothing to say?” Ayra spat, “Isn’t that convenient.” “If your so angry, why don’t you tell me to my face. Or are you scared?” Zane taunted. The wind howled around them, as Zane fought against his own pain and exhaustion. “I’m trying,” Arya growled, not realizing that she was steadily making her way up the cliff. Fueled by her anger Ayra finally made her way to solid ground. Zane collapsed beside her, panting heavily. He looked at Ayra with a mix of exhaustion and relief, and managed a weak smile. When Ayra recovered, she glared at Zane, “You tricked me.” Zane laughed tiredly, “It worked.” Ayra forced herself to her feet and held out a hand to Zane. As soon as they were both standing, they felt the pain of the curse. Zane closed his eyes, “It won’t let us both leave.” “I should stay, you’ve sacrificed more than enough.” Ayra murmured. Zane gently pushed her away from the cliff’s edge, “You have to go, you have to be the one to return. The people would never believe their oppressor’s son.” Ayra swallowed a sob, “Please Zane, don’t ask me to leave you.” Zane smiled sadly, “I’m at peace with this, you can go.” He pressed a hand to the ground, near the eerily glowing talisman, “I, Zane, of the Lions tribe offer myself instead of Ayra.” The talisman flared, and Zane collapsed to the ground in pain. His wounds had ripped open and were bleeding badly. Ayra fell to her knees next to him, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything.” Zane turned his head to her, “Why are you sorry, I chose this.” Ayra smoothed his hair away from his eyes, “I'm sorry for the things I said. You are nothing like your father. I'm honored that I got to know you.” Zane's eyes slipped shut, “I'm glad I didn't drag you back to my father when he ordered me to. I would have missed so much. Thank you, for showing me that there was more than the constant discipline and and fighting.” Zane sighed, “I only wish I could have seen more.” Ayra shivered, unsure if it was the cold or the scene before her. Zane deserved so much better than to be treated coldly his whole life and then to die just as he had a glimpse of happiness. Zane's eyes opened, they were filled with tears, “It hurts.” Ayra took his hand, “What can I do.” “T-tell them, when you return, what happened. Please, I want at least one of my people to be remembered for something other than violence.” “Oh Zane, of course I will.” Zane winced, struggling to draw in a breath, his eyes earnest and pained “Promise?” Ayra nodded firmly, “I promise.” Zane smiled, “Good.” His hand went limp in Ayra’s and his eyes slipped shut. Ayra gently placed his hand on his chest and stood, “Goodbye Zane.” She wished she was able to do more but the ground was hard and rocky and she had nothing to dig with. As she turned away, Ayra made a silent vow to honor Zane's last request.

Ayra made the rest of the journey in shock, wondering what had happened. She arrived back at the base near nightfall and was lauded as a hero. The people gathered around asking many questions. As many times as she tried to bring up Zane, the people shut her down. They told her that there was no way the son of a tyrant could have helped her. Using the information that Zane had given her and with pain in her heart, Ayra helped lead her people to safety. Once they were finally established Ayra was asked to address her people. She vowed to try once again, to show Zane as a hero and not just a villain and the tyrant’s son. She mounted the platform and faced the crowd. Opening her mouth she prepared to speak. “Don't you dare say anything about that boy,” a low voice behind her threatened. Ayra’s heart shattered yet again, even if she tried no one would listen. Amidst the roaring applause, a silent tear fell, reflecting the story she could never tell.

I'm used to patching myself up Staring in the mirror I'm used to Talkin to my reflection

I'm fine I don't need the sorry’s I don't need the half-heartfelt hugs It just makes it worse

I know you want to comfort me but I'm used to this because every word Is just an empty phrase

I'm the one that needs to change Yes I know it's true

But the problem isn't me it's…. You

Don't get me wrong I love you with all that I can give but sometimes you lecture me on things I need to fix

Yet you never change You always say I'm not understanding That I don't heed your words

You saying that just makes it worse

Cause how many times have I tried to get Your approval to show I'm listening

Yet you never see it. Don't comfort me it's not your thing you never did

I'm so good at patching myself up Hugging myself so I could feel closer To my daydream character

Every time you raise your voice I tremble on the inside

Then I hear my character's voice as he places an invisible hand on my shoulder pulling me into a hug no one sees

His words are kind and soothing as I'm trying to stop the tears

Every fight I just hide upstairs not wanting to talk cause I have everything I need

I'm used to building myself up

Used to handling it all alone

Just like the panic attacks The heart race Just like my suicide phase

I'm fine you don't need to console me I'll be fine in a week or two not

I'll be fine but not truly just let me tape up my mask put that fake smile on

Cause all you see on the outside Is me working hard with a smile on my face

Smiling tho the pain hurts Still going when I want to quit

I'm fine it's ok this is who I am