• I’m wearing a mask.
    Bet you can’t see it.
    It’s not the visible kind. It’s…translucent at best.
    It’s like water, it ebbs and it flows with my every move and personality. It changes with whatever I do, cooling my emotions and keeping me calm. Yet it always threatens to overflow and drown me if I’m not careful. And it might one day take everyone around me with it.
    It’s like fire, keeping me warm and safe. Yet if I’m not careful, it threatens to burn me up from the inside. If your not careful, it might burn you as well.
    It’s like a rock, solid and stable. It’s there to hold me up and for me to hide behind. No matter the strain and pressure, it holds firm, never willing to break down. Yet it could easily suffocate me if I’m not careful. And you couldn’t lift it if your tried.
    It’s like air. It can’t be touched or seen, but you believe it’s there. It’s what I live off of. Without it I would be nothing, and you would leave long before it’s gone.
    It’s like glass. It’s fragile and, if you look just right, it’s see-through. And, with time, will crack and fall away. And like broken glass, it will hurt anyone who touches it with it’s jagged edge.
    I’m wearing a mask.
    I know you can’t see it.
    It’s not the visible kind. It’s…emotional, really.
    It hides me. Hides everything I really am, and gives you a beautiful view instead. It tricks and deceives, but you don’t mind. You don’t notice. You see only the beautiful wrapping to the twisted gift it is containing.
    But with each fake smile and fake kind word I give, with each cold word and burning glare I receive, it falls apart more and more.
    I’m wearing a mask.
    But you‘re starting to see it as it breaks apart.
    Wanna see what’s behind it?
    Bet not.