Dawn breaks as I slip on my mask,

my mask of illusion, 

my mask of rage,

my mask of hostility.

Created long ago,

as a defense mechanism,

a defense from you.

You people who dragged me under,

who stripped me of my sense of humanity,

who broke my soul in two.

But this mask, it helps.

Yet it is not me,

not who I was,

or whom I yearn to be.

The talker, the smiler, the laugher, the happy.

Yet I cannot go back,

see I created this mask too well.

They cannot see me bleeding,

can you?

Remove the mask you say?

This to will not work.

I have lived and survived under this persona for so long,

that I have become dependent on it.

With it I am protected,

with it I can withstand your remarks,

your mutterings, your jeers, your words.

So to the lonely, the desperate, the sad, and the angry,

fight the mask never let it seize control,

or become like me,

and fall endlessly through the dark.


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