Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, for he only comes in the night. He comes to my bed and strangles the tears out until I scream for breath. He is ice cold emptiness and deafening silence.

 

No, pay not attention to the man behind the curtain. Rather, Look at my mask carved from ivory and gold, smooth as pearl. Look how the families and friends admire it's radiant happiness and beauty. It covers the face of my broken spirit, the tear tracks, bruises, and scars. I spent years crafting my mask and more years wearing it. Everyday it grows into my skin and every night the man rips it off; Leaving me raw, exposed, and weak.

 

 No matter what I do the man visits me in the night. Torn apart by jealousy and hate, he is what I conceal. I fear unleashing him unto the world,  so to amuse him I barricade my door with words of hope and strength trusted friends give me. But every night when I turn off the light,I hear the knob turn and the door creak open.