My mask is glued
It does not come off at night
or in the shower
It does not come off.
I did not choose this mask
I did not choose these purple bags that rest so easily underneath my eyes
I did not choose this hair that grows so fragile
I did not choose this lying smile.
I also did not choose this disease
I did not choose
how it ripped my life from me
how it tore my sanity
how it destroyed my insides inside out.
My mask is a shell
Not the masquerade seen at balls
Not the face to spark revolutions
No, my mask is the mask of hidden pain
What do these words hold true?
They describe my inner being
They decribe my life
They describe Crohn's Disease.
I will not remove my mask
Because my mask is unremovable