Saturday, September 02, 2006


I made this mask,
It's my creation.
I made it to protect myself,
I made it to be accepted,
It works.
Everybody loves my mask.

A pretty picture to look at.
Smiley, rosy apple lips and cheeks,
Big bright eyes and yellow hair.
Easy to look at,
Easy to talk to,

Some days it's not so hollow.
The smile beneath is just as wide,
The warmth makes the mask glow.
Some days the tears leak out,
Stain the edges,
Smudge the paint.
Some days it nearly cracks.

I want to tear the mask off.
I want to feel the air on my clammy skin.
I want to throw it on the dirty ground
And stab it with stiletto heels.
I want to smother it
Like it smothers me.

How would people know me though?
Without my mask.
My face is a stranger,
Unknown, unsure, unpredictable.
They wouldn't feel at ease,
They wouldn't warm to me with flaws and frowns.
It's too much, too raw, too risky.

The mask is clinging, gripping,
Sucking at my skin,
Fusing with my flesh,
Melding with me.

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