Masks.

So many times, different events and people change us- some for the better, while some for the worse. But the worst kind of change is when we are  forced to forget or suppress our true selves to bear with the chilly wind of Reality. The worst kind of change occurs then, when we have to put on a Mask.


She knocked,
He let her in.
He opened the door wide,
unsuspecting of treason.

And then another came by,
He opened the door again.
He let this one in too,
And then the next ten.

The door he opened was in his face slammed shut,
so many times that even he couldn't remember.
The day came when it broke, eventually
He couldn't put it back, piece it together.

And so, he set to work- he made himself a Mask,
made it with his own bare hands and a barely thudding heart.
A Mask so strong that it couldn't be shattered;
it took time- but of him, it eventually became a part.

No more doors, no more scattered emotions
At least none that the world could see-
Not even his lover who whispered she loved him,
Though he knew she didn't as much as he did, she didn't truly.

Unlike the people that came and left,
the Mask stayed sturdy through all the hurt.
Strengthening its already firm hold over him,
Leaving him of emotions, seemingly, a dearth.

But nothing can ever be that good,
Oh no, the Mask was far from perfect.
He suffocated in Sadness, drowned in Loneliness inside;
While pretending to hold his head high and back erect.

He cried from within the Mask, silent tears
That couldn't from the grasp of it, flee-
His face inside the Mask, grew contorted with pain;
Lips bitten down to maintain the secrecy.

He couldn't risk the heartbreak
Of everyone leaving, he told himself.
To keep from that, the Mask must stay on-
For now, the secretly beating heart must be put on a shelf.

-
I wish I could hold his hand
And tell him there's another way out, he's gotten it all wrong.
I'll then hope that my words penetrate his Mask
And he'll take it off- allowing me to see that beautiful face I haven't seen in so, so long.