Years of Fabrication

Intricately carved or painted

For ritual performance

Over gauze swaddled face

To display what I perceive is to be expected

Some are made of wood

And others made of porcelain

These ones are for fitting in

And those are for protection

I can layer the ones with straps

And raise the ones with sticks attached to chin or temple

One in each hand

A brilliant plan

Though it's never quite that simple

At time it's so exhausting

Shoulders sore from all the lifting

There's too many in this bag I'm carrying

Sometimes I forget

Or make the wrong selection

At times they start to slip

Whether unexpectedly

Or by my own intention

A mistake that's soon corrected

With several fresh wrapped layers

And either new masks made

Or old ones touched up and repainted

The bandages stay on at home

Though any mirror that isn't smashed

Is painted black

Yet still I glimpse my hated self

Almost forgotten

Watching from the shadows