My Mask
My mask is beautifully decorated
with bright smiles and joyful eyes
yet underneath
beauty i do not see.
Hidden is the pain
the drama
erased only
to society
But isn’t my mask
BEAUTIFUL.
i cry each night
to moisten
the dry staleness
that once resembled
my flesh
pain etched in
crevices with my
deadly venom
harvested daily,
but isn’t my mask
BEAUTIFUL
I cough dust
powder remnants
of my parched
heart
I bleed tears for
my eyes refuse
to be my windows
of despair
But isn’t my mask
BEAUTIFUL
I know you see
it you state how
BEAUTIFUL
it is.
Oblivious
to my pain, my scars
fear
disappointment
solitude.
But that doesn’t matter
Cause My mask
is
BEAUTIFUL