Played

I’m out of control.
my life is a work of fiction
it is only a reality to me.

You, yes you, aren’t real
you’re physically there, yes.
but it’s a just a façade.

You know something I don’t -
like what will happen to me tomorrow
or when I’ll be released from this torment.

Someone put you here.
you do what your boss tells you.
but who is your boss?

I can tell you.
Your boss is a puppeteer.
He’s using you just like he’s using me.

Why you ask?
his job is to entertain the paying customers
your job is to entertain the paying customers.
my job is to entertain the paying customers.

The only difference between you and I –
you’re doing so knowingly,
but this is my fictional reality.

----Isabella Ávila

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now accepting poetry to be published either anonymously, openly, or with a pseudonym of your choice: email me your stuff, I'll post it.

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