The Mask
She wears a mask, calm and unreadable,
What she shows is never what truly stays.
In thirst, she offers the illusion of an ocean,
Dreams appear, but completion slips away.
I ask myself—is this love or quiet confusion?
Yet in her presence, my weariness fades.
Maybe one day love will rise through the silence,
Without her, every vision slowly breaks.
She returns like a thought I cannot escape,
I am not enough, not whole, not chosen.
Her heart has known a deeper affection,
Still, I remain, bound to what is unspoken.
Happiness stands just out of our reach,
Memories linger longer than they should.
Promises dissolved, vows left undone,
Dreams scattered where hope once stood.
Love? Perhaps it never truly lived,
Only reflections of what I wanted to believe.
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