Today the eyes of the world are upon her. The cold stair of a billion people following her every move. Watching suspiciously and with conviction in their eyes. She is 8 feet tall today and the sign over my head is an unavoidable beacon drawing everyone closer.
The circus freak goes on stage and in the darkness that surrounds her only silence. The deafening silence rips at her ears as the white ring of light probing her from all directions strips her bare. Naked and alone all she feels is fear. Her self-consciousness swells under the skin like a thousand boils of her disease. No escaping the intense gaze from the corner of her eye… either direction the same.
The darkest layers of her clothing can no longer hide the seething pain of vulnerability. Her fingers shake and clutch at her arms crossed over naked breasts. The transparency of her flesh and bones offer not protection from all the unbroken stairs. Each piercing her flesh with divine accuracy. The criss-crossed gazes dissect her every breath. Paralyzed in a pool of fear only the beat of her heart bursting from her chest offers any hint of life within.
Flight of this motionless statue made impossible by the roots of doubt pulling her limbs deeper into the earth beneath her. She can do nothing but fear. Her chest longs to cry out. Heaving only shallow breaths of a dying flower at the center of the universe. If only she could break free. If only the arms of comfort had not abandoned her soul.