the mask I wear

i wear the mask they made for me—

Soft and fragile,

Like porcelain,

Hiding a truth they'll never see.

Every smile I give,

A lie.

Every laugh,

A denial of the storm.

That brews beneath the surface.

But in the silence,

When the world goes to sleep,

I rip the mask off—

And for a fleeting second,

I feel the air against skin.

That knows itself.