A Magician Never Spills Her Secrets

She is a masterful magician.
She has many fooled that her heart is warm.
She envelopes people in kind words and meaningful smiles.
She means it when she is kind.
She cares for the ones around her.
But they are just an audience.
Her secret?
She is unkind to herself.
"The world is too biter to be bitter in return," she says.
And she believes it.
That's her opening line.
They listen with intent and wide eyes; smiling in return.
They applaud her successful tricks;
They cheer her on when she fails and the secrets are out, and then magic seems lost.
She pushes herself to master the disappearing act––she never seems to see the sun now.
Her heart can't thaw in darkness.
She knows this.
She wants desperately to quit her magic act but she doesn't know anything outside of her show.
The world that surrounds her quiet room is so unfamiliar to her, so terrifyingly true and real,
That she'd rather be perfecting her madness than melt her loneliness.
Ice has begun to fill her veins slowly––
Her act of the frozen girl almost complete.
But she breaks a small window while practicing her performance
And she sees the sun for the first time in years.
She shies away from it and boards up the broken glass so the truth of her magic stays only hers.
Suddenly she realizes just how dark it is inside her head.
She wonders why it's so cold.
She wonders why she no longer wants it to be.