The Mask We Wear

The Mask We Wear

A smile can be sharp as a blade.

It gleams while the silence bleeds.

The eyes may shine with laughter,

But carry a storm that no one sees.

A mask is a quiet betrayal.

It covers the pulse of truth.

We wear it to shield the wound,

Or to guard the fragments of youth.

Beneath is the shadowed chamber.

The place where the whispers stay.

They curl in the folds of memory,

And wait for the night to betray.

A mask can protect the spirit.

It can dazzle, distract, and defend.

But within the shadowed reflection,

The disguise will falter in the end.

For the mirror remembers the silence.

It remembers the weight of the eyes.

It gathers the sighs of the hidden,

And unmasks the cleverest lies.

I walk with two selves in silence.

One dressed for the world outside.

The other a darker companion,

That nothing and no one can hide.

What I reveal is rehearsal.

A role I have learned to sustain.

But beneath the still breath of the mirror,

The hidden face waits in the pain.