masquerade masks


The hide in my soul envelopes me whole
I become the dolls I castrate and criticize
I realize that the only way to survive is to wear a mask
The only problem is choosing which mask fits me perfectly
I choose the velvet lace

I dance to the song in the ballroom alone
I pull at the string holding me up like a marionette
I laugh at jokes that make me cringe internally
I plaster the smile that must look genuine and true
I think of the mask that must be worn
I choose the floral cut

I shout inwards at the injustice that I see before me
But on the surface the only thing seen is a deeper smile
I complement the vilest of creatures and in my psyche I point out their every single fault
I think of the mask that must be frayed
I choose a beige string concept

At the tip of my tongue I hold words as sharp as knives
At the curve of my mouth I hold secrets that could end friendships
At the edge of my fingers I hold talons that draw blood
I think of the mask that must dawned
I choose onyx glass shards

Each mask I wear covers a different piece of my soul that must kept a deep dungeon because I have learnt in the few years of my existence that ingenuity can only take so far but to push it over the edge and succeed I need my masks and so every morning I collect my masks and keep them in my heart and wear each when necessary..... so is life.

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