Smoke and Mirrors

I grew up in a circus family,

my parents were carnival barkers, 

constantly shouting through their megaphones.

Everything was a show

nothing was real,  

everything for money and a bow.

Mighty contortionists and illusionists;

backstage they were abusive and reckless 

 evil clowns, perpetual sarcastic

control freaks wearing masks of fleshy pink plastic.

I escaped home on the back of an elephant.

I ran and ran.

I do not entertain, put on airs, make grand announcements like my parents did. 

Those were very strange habits.