The Mask of Severence

I chose the mask of refusal,

sharp enough to cut ties,

clear enough to survive.

No softness, no apology—

only the steel of boundaries,

the silence of doors closing.

They called me cruel

for speaking truth without disguise,

for refusing to perform pain

to make them comfortable.

But cruelty is not in the severance.

It is in the demand

that I stay broken for their gaze.

So I wore the mask of clarity,

cold as winter air,

bright as shattered glass.

And beneath it,

I found myself whole—

not healed,

not gentle,

but free.