A Mask of Glass
I am injured. And I am alone. Your mask falls & hits the floor like shattering glass. But this is not the first time your beautiful reflection has deceived me, no. I've lost count of the number of times that you've watched me throw my self to the floor and desperately try to put the pieces back together.
And you've let me. You've let me cut myself with those pieces as I struggle to recreate the 'love' that I have lost. And as you watch me place the last shard into its place, you thank me for loving and forgiving you, and place it, to again, cover your face. You know it's what I want to see. You know it's what I need. So you wear it again until the truth seeps in and infects me. Until cries echo and rattle the mask to the floor once more. I cant be mad that you don't want to keep it on all the time. I'm sure it's terribly uncomfortable.
I'm not sure why It's so natural for the people I love to hurt me. But it's obvious what the common factor is. I'm not sure where my obsession with masks came from. I just love to see the artistry I guess.
Copyright © Chelsea StufLeben | Year Posted 2024
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