Work Text:
I've always loved circus, the laughter, the music, the colors
But this one... it was the jugglers
I was watching them throwing up pins and balls
I used to be able to do that, and I found some and the applause started
But not from the audience
It seemed to be from the jugglers, but the sound was too tedious
They only had two hands but it seemed hideous
It was in my head
And left this dread
I tried to continue but each clown looked the same
They blended and I felt like the carousel moving round and round, it Seemed to be a claim
I ran, tripping, to look in the mirror, but all I saw was a performer
It was torture
The white makeup seemed to stick
I clawed at my face, wetting it in the sink
But when I looked at my hands
There was nothing on them, and my face still had the paints
The smile was still there
When it looked in the mirror, it wasn't the same, not even its hair
This strange feeling deep inside it made it walk
And it walked out and looked down, waiting for it, was a pair of juggling Pins, it tried to talk
But it couldn't
It didn't have any vocal cords to make the sound anything to quote
And it walked back up to the stage
And kept its smile
Staring out into the crowded
The people didn't even notice they were surrounded
By strangers
Strangers that would bring in people that loved the circus
They always ended up the best parts of the act
With her keeping them there
Unknown of its snare
That she keeps, the strings that pull them to dance
They never had a chance
Not against her
"Joey"
The skinless clown,
The victor of the circus,
The bear of the circus,
Nikola Orsinov