Up and Out

Everyone suddenly walking out. 
As if the curtains had closed. 
As if they are late for something. 
They've all instantly realized they're left their hair dryers plugged in. 
You stand there, behind that curtain. 
You watch them all shift in their seats, you watch them place their feet firmly on the ground. 
You watch the exchange of glances, because words aren't needed for the exit. 
They leave. 
You stay. 
You stand there. 
As they move to the door they grow taller, their heads all brush the ceiling. 
As they move, they grow further apart. 
Growing taller and further apart from one another, further from you, standing still. 
That's what happens. 
While your show is going on. 
Sometimes people just grow up and out, they leave you there. 
With your curtain open or closed. 
People sometimes leave, it happens, sometimes they go. 
You've done it to someone you know, you've grown up and out. 
Further away, we all have to go.