#mask
A practiced smile,
a perfectly 'fine' day,
she puts on her mask,
before the world can look away.
She tries to be,
the girl they want to see,
light and hollow,
easy and free.
But no,
it takes so much breath...
to stay this happy,
to stay this thin,
to keep the heaviness locked within.
The mirror doesn't ask who she is anymore.
Even she can't see,
so what use would it be?
She is tired of being the dress-up doll,
holding her breath so she doesn't fall.
Hiding in her own skin,
from herself.
3d ago
May 31, 2026 at 6:04 AM UTC
Did a doctor tell you to wear that mask
or are you living as somebody you are not?
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 11:43 AM UTC
A furry, small, brown being.
Tongue inviting milk into his mouth,
drops sticking on his white mustache.
Tail swaying, his turquoise eyes staring—
like the tail is not his.
Chasing at day till his paws ache,
at night, I fly till darkness covers me.
Flapping my ink soaked wings,
Wind weighs on my shiny feathers.
Oasis in deserts, wasteland in cities.
My bluish grey eyes lost in the mirror—
a shattered image in this dark night.
Hands leaking scarlet liquid,
a man stares at a fragmented mirror.
Wiping the red from the cracks,
I saw the man— no
that man is me.
Raziel Vale
May 5
May 5, 2026 at 5:59 AM UTC
One day, I’ll tell you how much
I’m happy for you
without the sound of glacier
falling away
into the gentle sea
The moon will not lock the tides
of salt and dust,
swirling ancient civilizations
that have long forgotten my name
in the night
Someday, my lungs will breathe
the air of this solitary room,
eating the poor bread of my soul
given to me
once only a million years ago
I will not sleep at night,
dreaming of being reborn again,
to feel the same fire
that dazzles over your life
One day, I will smile
at your most glorious days
Not from the same old mask
that has punctured me,
but from my own lips
that cradles soft mellow waves
of earth.
I will no longer hold the sword
that binds me
to the ancient darkness that held
this night together
And I will think of better days
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 12:15 PM UTC
Naked humans, so rare
Nearly all, entirely numb
And the rest
Wears a mask
Apr 17
Apr 17, 2026 at 4:25 PM UTC
Trapped in my own skin,
Take a peeler to my arms,
Something so foreign.
I can see the cracks,
Jagged lines running across,
In this borrowed mask.
Truth seeps out in drops,
Reality threatening,
To break the facade.
Apr 15
Apr 15, 2026 at 10:16 AM UTC
Life itself
It has been magnified
Like an hour glass
Working in fixed-time
We as people are pressured to be automatic
In a world
Where nothing in our existence is static
But we do tend to behave masked with egotistical expressions
So why should we be pressed by a certain rhythm
When we can flourish in our own way of being
To be at service not in survival
Not being in pain and despair
Not to live a life of lies and deceptions
I wish for life to be exciting and elevating
And that we all stand the same
One day
Cherishing
Unmasking
Life itself
Mar 22, 2022
Mar 22, 2022 at 1:30 PM UTC
Save me,
There are many things people don't see.
Everyone thinks i'm fine but I'm not,
I feel like rot.
I am never enough,
Everything I do is rough.
I barely feel anything soft,
I always feel lost.
The pain follows me everywhere I go,
All I want to yell is NO!
The pain shouldn't control me but it does,
I watch as it snows.
I put on a smile,
Its been awhile
since I've actually smiled.
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 3:40 PM UTC
The birds went quiet;
I've lost my mind because I
don't know: who am I?
Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 9:58 AM UTC
Sometimes i
feel like a lie,
well-worn into the
exact shape they want me
to be
but they don't realize
that they don't see the
rest of me
Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 12:04 PM UTC
im holding on
my iced hand slipping from your soft loving touch
flakes of my cracked skin fall to the ground
like the crystal tears from my eyes
i look into your caring gaze
reading the tangle of our souls
each of us silently pleading
for the other to speak the truth first
we need to let go
yet we clutch harder
hoping the message travels through our grip
im holding on
it feels like a crumbling cliff edge
not life or death
but close enough to sting like it
your hand keeps feeding me strength
even as i see the strain it costs you
i feel your aching heartbeat
so i lift your mask
and find a crystal tear beneath
we need to let go
but i keep going
im holding on
even as i know release is right
my heart tells my hand to cling harder
though it deepens the fall
sharpens the pain
and makes the landing crueler
still i dont stop
i cant stop
so i brace for the fall
and until it feels safe
until it feels right
im holding on
but if i must
i will let go
Mar 15
Mar 15, 2026 at 7:21 AM UTC
Black sadness in my life,
Questions creeping.
I strangle goodness.
Save me from loss,
I want consciousness.
A mask so heavy
Only a fire can destroy it.
But like scars it stays
Tightening my chest, lungs, heart
Leaving me gasping
For bitter air.
Voices quiet,
Comfort encaged,
Happiness gone.
Make it go away.
Feb 27
Feb 27, 2026 at 4:50 PM UTC
Nobody's found the right way to hide who they are
no one has found the flow that will make them popular
If there was just one person who could read and hide how they really felt, we would all be doomed-
Feb 25
Feb 25, 2026 at 2:55 PM UTC
Trapped inside
Vanquished by the light
Doomed to rot alone for eternity
Neverending fears haunts my mind
Dark enchantments keeps me alive
I’m drowning in tears to cleanse the scars away
Mending, but never healing
This malice
Tears me apart
As life goes on
I’m slowly sinking ever deeper into darkness
Decaying on a throne of pain
Frozen in time
Deep down in the abyss
They have come for me
Faceless terrors
Voices without words
Venomous, chaining and enslaving
-An endless battle of loss
Maybe… I should end it all
Yet
I smile
Like a gardener in its own garden
My cage of thorns endures…
The freakshow must go on.
Feb 23
Feb 23, 2026 at 9:13 AM UTC
Tonight I became a metaphor—again!
Someone needed to get somewhere
and I was the ground that didn’t move.
I felt my skin go rigid, wood-grain
and then stone, a flat thing
for boots to kick against.
I felt the weight of a whole body
press into my spine, certain and heavy,
crossing over to the other side
of an argument I wasn't allowed to have.
I stopped breathing.
Metaphors don’t need air; they are static.
I watched my hands go thin,
the grease and grit under my nails
drying into a signifier for "work."
Not the work of my fingers,
just the idea of it,
cleaned up and used to salt a speech.
I see the way you adjust your collar in me.
I see you checking your own eyes for fire,
tilting your head to find the version of yourself
that looks the most like a hero.
I am the surface that lets you believe it.
I know the exact pressure of your stare
and I know it is only a search
for a reflection you can live with.
The light clicks off.
The door-latch hits the strike plate,
and the room goes back to being
just a room where nothing happened.
I am left in the dark,
a pile of glass and discarded scraps,
the smell of someone else’s sweat
cooling on the floor.
I am the tool back in the drawer
with the dead batteries
and the tangled string.
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 9:45 PM UTC
I found myself attending costume parties without a mask.
I was ashamed of myself.
So, I began to wear costumes and masks.
People approved greatly—they called me many things:
kind, gentle, honest—a good person.
And, suddenly I found myself unable to take off the costume.
I looked around to find myself alone once more in my attempt to escape.
I realised what fools they were—what a fool I had been.
So, now I attend without a costume.
I ignore their comments—"Oh, what happened to the kind boy I used to know?"—because no longer do I play the fool's game.
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 3:25 PM UTC
I wake up,
I trudge to the bathroom.
I brush my teeth and take a shower.
I get dressed and go downstairs.
The same bowl of cereal waits in the same seat.
Then I trudge with my bag into the car.
I watch the grey skies go by.
I watch the dull buildings go by.
Too soon, I arrive at school.
But, I have no say in the matter.
So, I grab my bag,
and trudge through the gates as I see other students talking to their friends animatedly.
I trudge to my locker.
There I see my friends.
And, I put the mask back on.
And I grin and laugh as they go about their daily jokes.
I quickly grab my books from my locker and take the time I have before my first class to talk to my friends.
I joke,
I make them laugh,
I grin when they make a joke,
I laugh brightly,
And, just like that,
the mask is on,
porcelain—long since cracked,
and everyone mills about—
unaware
of how dead I am.
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 3:21 PM UTC
Beneath a veil, the soul resounds,
Its truest echoes, unbound by bounds.
A face obscured, yet words reveal,
What naked lips might dare conceal.
Truth blooms in shadows, veiled, refined,
A mask unlocks the guarded mind.
For in disguise, the heart lays bare,
Its courage born from hidden air.
Jan 17
Jan 17, 2026 at 2:18 AM UTC
The girl who laughs at everything,
is always positive and looks confident.
She seems to have it all,
a great life,
perfect body,
skin like glass
and even good grades.
Her life seems perfect
with a perfect family and lots of friends.
She is smiling,
she looks happy.
She seems to have it all.
But that is not how she feels.
Not at all.
Nobody sees her pain, her struggles.
Nobody knows what she’s been through.
Nobody knows she’s tired of everything.
That she can’t even get out of bed in the morning.
That brushing her teeth ***** all her energy away.
Nobody knows she stopped eating cause her stomach felt too big.
That the first thing she does when she wakes up is stepping on the scale.
That the only thing she thinks about are numbers.
Nobody knows she spent all her money,
on skincare and make up,
only for her to be comfortable enough to leave the house,
to see people.
Nobody sees the hours she spends learning for school,
learning to the point she can’t even stand on her feet anymore,
without shaking and almost fainting.
Nobody knows how alone she sometimes feels at home.
Nobody knows how she thinks that her friends don’t like her,
that she is too much.
That everyone hates her and thinks she’s a burden.
That she feels like she needs to drink herself numb in social situations to be confident enough.
Nobody knows there was a time where she was too scared to leave her room.
Nobody knows she is slowly fading away.
That’s the girl behind her smile.
That’s the girl that she tries to hide.
Cause what if everyone sees the real her?
What if nobody likes her the way she is?
What if she doesn’t look perfect?
What does she still have left then?
Then she is just a girl.
A girl with pain.
A girl that falls apart.
So,
she puts on her mask,
her shield
and laughs.
Dec 30, 2025
Dec 30, 2025 at 11:02 AM UTC
it presses so tightly against my face, at this point i can barely breathe
this is what happens when you spend your whole life holding back and you never release
this layer of protection is starting to feel a bit more like pressure
this armour that i’ve got on won’t protect me forever
the tension is becoming unbearable
this mask is becoming unwearable
years and years of holding back
one too many panic attacks
the elastic band is about to snap
i’m about to collapse…
what am i supposed to do about that?
do i suffocate in silence, or do i tear off this mask?
do i let pride **** me, or do i just show you who i am?
Dec 4, 2025
Dec 4, 2025 at 8:34 PM UTC
a girl; a mask; another mask and another; and another;
semicolons between months and red slices between days
in the space between sunset
and morning.
Dec 3, 2025
Dec 3, 2025 at 6:45 PM UTC
Wake up, O’ prettiest, O’ most sweetest—
the sun now glows with gentle rays;
the final day of November
stands in stillness, for you it prays.
For even dawn grows breathless, dear,
when your dreaming eyes appear;
each tender beam of morning light
bows softly where your skies are clear.
The morning keeps its trembling calm,
aware of the soft mask you wear;
a fragile veil, a hidden charm,
yet brilliance lingers in the air.
Through that shield your beauty gleams,
a glow no shadow dares to bind;
the world leans close with wistful dreams
to touch the grace you leave behind.
O’ queen of hours wrapped in gold,
whose presence autumn softly weaves;
you turn the simplest wind to song,
a hymn among the amber leaves.
So rise, beloved miracle,
for heaven waits in reverie;
to see the beauty past your mask
turn fleeting time to eternity.
Nov 30, 2025
Nov 30, 2025 at 5:47 AM UTC
Who’s wrong and who’s right?
Everything you do makes you seem nice,
and darling, that’s how the wicked rise
for it knows it shall thrive,
behind a mask of carefully crafted lies.
Your vices, love, you cannot hide
so when the moon is enticed,
remember to pay the price,
for if you falter or think twice,
the cost will rise beyond your sight.
For when the red moon is finally revived,
you’ll owe far more than just the debt of life.
Nov 16, 2025
Nov 16, 2025 at 10:29 AM UTC
I function
That’s the word for it
Conversation is a sequence
Input
Response
Smile where expected
Eyes engaged enough to pass
They say I seem better
I don’t correct them
Truth has no use here
Family asks questions
The answers are pre-recorded
I deploy them
The room exhales in relief
They laugh
I mirror it
Timing is everything
My face moves first
Then the sound follows
Almost convincing
Afterward
Silence hums in my ears
The body feels light
Air passes through
Nothing catches
I watch them eat
I hold the fork
I make the right noises
I pass the salt
Inside
No pulse
No static
No ache
Just the steady click
Of a system still running
Nov 14, 2025
Nov 14, 2025 at 5:39 AM UTC