Crash Test Dummy

I have this ridiculous notion of stepping out on display
Into the piercing gaze of one bright eye from the rafters. That lone beam is the focused stare of all the ones who sit and watch as if
something is happening behind me.
The spotlight asks all the questions and shouts all the answers like a conversation to itself about me. It can see my sweat, it can hear my gasps,
it can smell my fear.
It wants to know what I’ve got behind my back, up my sleeve, in my head. But at the same time it is indifferent.
I offer what I can, I bear myself as though I am being asked to
represent mankind.
I hollow out my body and disassemble my spirit.
Then the people stand up, grab their coats and walk away, and I am left in shambles, still bathed in light but completely in shadow, standing on an island alone
in an empty sea.
With no one left to put the pieces back together.
And this is not the first time.