My Masks
I have my own little corner of the house
It isn’t much
It isn’t big
But it is mine
It is warm and cozy and comfortable
It helps me breathe.
Here is my safety
To be who I truly feel I am
It is in this space where I can tell my truth
Maybe even Be my truth,
Even if it is only for a little while
Out there, in the rest of this cavernous house
I am the old me
I am in hiding, in exile, in waiting
Out there I need to put on my masks
Of patience, of duty, of interest, when inside I am screaming
Out there I am a wife of a business owner
And I feel the need to perform like she should
Out there I am a mother, whose children’s needs always erase her own
Out there I am a liar and a fake; but it is a skin I’ve worn for so long
It feels real