What am I doing?
Among these people
What am I doing?
Wearing a mask of human skin, pulling it taught and loose when they do
What am I doing?
When the blood drips down the side of my neck, I smear it on my-not mine.-cheeks
What am I doing?
I pull on the skin of the jester, forcing my fingers to fill the loose space, fitting pins in any loose flaps
What am I doing?
Dancing as they cackle at my bloody footprints, feet struggling to find purchase as I slip and slide around in the gore
What am I doing?
My voice supplements the cacophony of noise surrounding it, not quite matching the pitch of the others
What am I doing?
I can feel it slipping, the squelch of pins ripping themselves free, the wet sliding of the skin against muscle
What am I doing?
The air is sharp as it meets me, sunlight deprived and damp. Once again bare
What am I doing?
Silence
The skin sloughs to the floor, with a wet, gushing slap
Silence
My heart beats faster, displacing the muscle around it with sharp, frantic bursts
Silence
I smile nervously, my lack of lips making it more of a toothy grimace
Silence
I resume my dance, with no laughter or cries of mirth to cover the sound of my joints clicking and groaning
Silence
No one cheers
Silence
No one screams
Silence
No one claps
Silence
I still
Silence
My lungs rapidly contract and expand, tearing the surrounding flesh
Silence
Blood runs down my legs and soaks the carpet
Silence
I'm alone now, my only company the sticky carpet borderline attached to the soles of my feet
Silence
I open my mouth to scream
Silence.