A clown that may show no tears.

I'm a clown that plays. For all that could hear or near.

Will they cry or hear my whines under the mask? Will my Face be tangible to ones hands?

My body a muse a fuse to a persons pleasure, twined to lines of black and gold that dance and bend under the force of my movements.

A clown in golden thread my hands bound high as I cry as I whine the world loud, my mind buzzing. My eyes darting. My voice weak. Before I snap back into a place of no return.

A wide playful grin that is meant to make others not smile. that is when the buzzing stops, when others smile till their gone then it leaves.

Loneliness.

-Clown 04/27/26