We all have a mask.
Sometimes we forget to take it off.
Some of us have forgotten what out faces look like.
We do it for them.
We carve and sterilize ourselves away,
until we are shining empty reflections.
We say what we're supposed to,
echoes and reflections.
The masquerade is devouring me.
It is not virtuous to surrender.
I'm begging you, make yourself
in your own image.
Endure the glances and the whispers,
they are afraid of your truth.
The truth will set you on fire.
Every false thing will burn down,
and you can plant a garden in the ashes.