Masquerade
I wear a mask that fits but feels untrue,
its edges pressed against my skin, suffocating.
The world expects what it’s been shown,
while I hold the truth just beneath the surface.
A quiet rebellion stirs behind my eyes,
the weight of a smile that never quite reaches.
In the space between breaths, I wonder -
how long before this mask cracks,
too?
Copyright © Lauren Tilley | Year Posted 2024
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