My Mask

I see it here
Sitting next to me or in the mirror
I work so hard to keep it from slipping
Always keeping it near
No one can see who I really am
A monster, disguised as a lamb
and behind this mask
I set each word as a cryptogram
But no one dares look
Who'd want to read my book?
Such a pathetic tale
Fear, hatred, and sadness in every nook
And every day behind this mask
My soul unravels a little more
The cold seeping, replacing what it tore
I'll grow a little more pale, but I'll win another fight
Since I don't know how to live any other way
I'll keep it's strings tight
Maybe for just one more day

Author's Note

I looked at a physical ceramic mask I made and maybe it was just the lighting but it seemed to be dancing, alive and mischievous. Almost as if, had I put it on, I wouldn't be a person wearing a mask but instead- a mask wearing a person. It makes me wonder, maybe the people we pretend to be can still be who we are after the mask inevitably breaks.