Masks,
we all wear them,
at least from time to time.
Don't try to deny it.
That girl who seems cheery all the time,
who always has a jacket on, or a sweater,
to hide the cuts,
and more importantly,
her Mask.
The little kid who sits alone at lunch,
who, "just isn't social",
because if he plays with others,
they'll see the bruises,
the beatings will show through.
Again, always wearing a jacket or somesuch,
but again,
more importantly,
his Mask.
Me,
me, who barely gets by,
without just exploding,
and hurting those he loves,
and wants to just be able to be STABLE,
just to see what it feels like.
I wear my faded jeans,
my gloves, to hide the bloodied knuckles,
from just punching whatever's at hand,
my boots,
to keep my toes breaking when I kick things,
but most importantly,
my Mask.