Masks

So many layers

Donned in the dark

Without knowing why

Not knowing what —

These masks created themselves

Without consent

No permission given

~~

These masks are protective

Hiding signs of breakage

Unrelenting tears revealing

Fears crouched inside

A heart and soul confused

Under the overwhelming weight

Of being one among many

~~

Lonely, floating in a bubble

Watching the world go by

Listening to voices echoing

As if far in the distance

Though those who speak

Are but a step away

~~

The masks have hidden

Terrors of misunderstanding

And of being misunderstood

Words lacking, tongue thick with

Things unspoken, choked back

For fear of error, thoughts misspoken

~~

Unperceived, the masks have grown

Emerging with each social need

Each demand for normalcy

Every conversation on a moment’s notice

Without a chance to write the script

~~

The mask to hide the unrelenting urge

To scrub, to clean, to scream

Unwelcome tears of frustration

Manifested in the teen years, soon to

Learn that when it will not end

Just put on the mask and turn away

~~

Masks to obscure the marks of tooth

And scratch and cut, to hide deep scars

Of self-chastisement manifested then,

Between fourteen and twenty-one,

Remained for years and may not

Have slipped away; in fact, have any?

Obscure the foot that bounces, unrelenting,

Unbidden and unexpected

That same mask hides the memory of

The leading foot, toes first, a fault forgotten

Until now, or not so long ago

~~

Sitting in a loud place, a mask creates

An island content to watch the outside world

From insulated retreat, peering hesitant

behind fear-tinted eyes

~~

All masks, all the time

~~

I’ve begun to peel the masks away

Revealing who I really am

Exhibiting vulnerability, pulling

Bandages from wounds I never knew

Existed, great open gashing wounds, bleeding

I fear the masks, I fear the nakedness beneath

I fear the disappointment in my eyes

To find I’ve never known me

Beneath these masks I have not chosen

~~

The masks have chosen me

~~

They are not masquerade, but adaptation

A way for me to fit within society’s expectation

They lie, these masks; they say that I am strong

That I am wise, that I am comfortable in groups

That I am outgoing, calm, friendly, empowered

These things I am not; these are the masks

~~

Who would I be without them?

~~~

This poem first appeared in Bouncin and Behavin Poems on Medium