Black Mask


My black mask.

Smiling, warm

Careless

Wonderful.

How you all see me. Exactly what you believe.

You don’t look past it, you just stare at my mask, smiling.

 

My black mask.

 

My skin,

My troubled past seeps through cracks,

Sometimes,

Rarely,

Escapes to view.

I don’t understand that face.

Neither do you.

Skewered, contorted, ripped up, soiled, beaten, misunderstood.

Repressed.

By me.

Held inside.

Neglected. Tortured. Undying, forever suspended there.

Chained,

Struggling,

Cowering.

Strained between my flesh and your vision of me.

Behind the mask it lies.

That bubbling, horrible, ugly truth that I can never hide.

And never show.

My black mask.

My brand

My curse

My affliction

My Creation.

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About theonlyjoe

I am Joe. This is a collection of my ramblings, poems, stories, afflictions, victories, and the picture of my mind. Make yourselves at home. View all posts by theonlyjoe

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