The Mask I Wear

The mask I wear fits snug and tight,

A shield of smiles in the harshest light.

It’s painted bright, with colors that gleam,

A crafted facade, a perfected dream.

It hides the cracks, the tears, the ache,

The parts of me I dare not break.

Each morning I tie its strings with care,

A practiced act, a silent prayer.

They see the laughter, the confidence, grace,

But not the storm I carefully erase.

For beneath the mask lies something raw,

A tangled soul, both flawed and in awe.

The mask protects, yet it confines,

A double-edged sword of careful lines.

It shields me from the judging gaze,

But dims my light, it hides my blaze.

I long to rip it, to let it fall,

To show my truth, to bare it all.

But fear whispers soft, and doubt takes hold—

What if my real self is too bold?

Still, there are moments when the ties grow loose,

When I let the world glimpse my truth.

And in those times, I see a spark,

A flicker of light within the dark.

For every scar, each hidden pain,

Tells a story I can’t feign.

And when I dare to drop the guise,

I find acceptance in honest eyes.

The mask I wear is not all of me,

It’s just a part, a piece you see.

But someday soon, I’ll cast it aside,

And embrace my whole self, with nothing to hide.