every night before i go to bed, i craft my mask for my upcoming performance of course! perfectly powdered cheeks, flawless. lashes curled, a rosy smile- always a smile. Silent, Unseen, always a smile.
in the cold, dark glass, i look at myself in the mirror's depths. the real me. i see a twisted, gnarled mess. a frown, eyes brimming with distress. torn apart by her cruel mind.
how i wish the mask would set in, so i wouldn't have to prepare this facade, every. single. day.
I'm tired.
What if, I don't have the will to craft the mask tonight? What if I simply indulge in slumber's gentle light? Without the weight of the mask upon my sight?
no.
they won't accept me. and i cannot bear their disdain you see, and so, the everlasting performance, it must be.
forever twirling and whirling, striving to reach their expectations, a puppet on 4 strings, i must be.