Painted

The mask and the reality

     The sun dawned early this morning, early. I was awoken by the rays peeping through my window. My head was not full of thoughts yet. I simply wanted to make myself beautiful. Makeup, toothbrush, combing my hair; I wanted to look in the mirror with satisfaction. All along strangers told me I was quite gorgeous. But what is it I see in the mirror? I am painting my face for others, like a Geisha. To the public eye I seem quite together. Piece by piece I have put myself together and sometimes pieces are torn. I turn those torn down pieces over and over again in my hand. I am hesitant to put them back where they belong. I am even hesitant to replace them. I just paint them over with a smile. Don't I seem together? I keep thinking I will survive. Though, I do not want to continue on...painting this image. I cannot say "I am who I am". I must contemplate on those pieces. Puzzlement cannot last forever and I must not wait for my eureka moment. I must paint the image in the mirror, but I also must enjoy the sun peeping through my window.