Life is Just Show Business

It's three a.m. again,
and the circus in my head
has not slowed.
It's in complete chaos.

Trapezes are breaking,
fake guns are smoking,
and knife throwers
are pinning dancers to the tent's beams.

The audience shrieks,
strapped to their chairs,
begging the ringmaster
to make the murder stop
as clowns lay waste
to the first few rows.

But the ringmaster
is just curled up in a ball,
in the middle of it all,
caressing a gun.
The safety's on,
he's not ready to shoot;
he's just exploring the possibilities.