The Mask We Wear

The Mask We Wear

The mask does not slip by chance.

It waits, patient as stone.

It carries the taste of secrets.

It feeds on the marrow alone.

The smile is a painted weapon.

The laugh a borrowed sound.

Yet beneath the careful surface,

The blood runs black underground.

A disguise is not freedom, but prison.

It claws at the flesh of the skin.

It binds the self in silence.

It cages the howl within.

The eyes can betray the story.

The pulse can betray the lie.

But the mask will not surrender,

Till the self beneath must die.

The world does not want the truth.

It fears the darker song.

So I wear the face it expects.

Though the hidden self burns all along.