The Actor

They powdered his name
and clipped his voice,
tucked his history into a press kit.
Said “Be charming, be bold
but only in ways we approve.”

They cut him down
then warned him not to bleed.

There's no choice but to learn
the choreography of deception
where to pause, where to nod,
how to soften a scream into a tilt of the head.

He carved truths into lyrics,
into the underside of melodies,
They called it brand,
he called it survival.

Sometimes, he dreamt
of flicking that cigarette lighter
and letting it all burn.

But somewhere,
beneath the edits he still sings.
And if you listen close,
you’ll hear it,
A rebellion made of whispers.
A truth too close to name.