THE MASK I WEAR
Sit in a crowded room with walls
and still feel invisible.
I finally understand
it was never the room
that made me invisible.
The air is heavy,
voices blur into noise,
like I’m drowning
in a tide that isn’t mine.
I try to speak,
but no one listens.
I wait for someone
to notice I’m here
but no one ever does.
The walls don’t talk
yet somehow they know
every thought I’ve never said,
every place I didn’t go.
They’re all smiling, laughing.
I put on my mask.
The mask fits too well
smooth, unbroken, convincing, believable.
No one sees it slip.
No one sees what’s hidden beneath.
I’ve worn it so long
I forget what’s under it,
which face is mine
and which belongs to someone else.
The mask fits so well,
I forget the weight of my own skin.
I practice expressions in mirrors no one sees.
Sometimes I catch a glimpse,
and all I see is a stranger
staring back at me.
I laugh when I’m meant to,
I smile on cue
but it feels like I’m watching
someone else live my life.
And when the room goes quiet,
I’m still unseen.
When I leave, nothing changes
like I was never there at all.
Just a voice
that never made it out
of that room.
Maybe it was never the room.
Maybe it was me
dissolving into echoes no one hears.
Maybe I’ve been invisible so long
I’ve forgotten how to be seen.
I leave the crowded room,
the echoes of laughter taunting me
like they touched my skin.
The walls close quietly,
but their weight walks with me.
Footsteps tap on the pavement,
but they aren’t mine.
I move,
but I’m still a shadow
cast between the places I should belong.
The night sky folds around me,
quiet enough to hear my own voice,
soft, small,
and still unnoticed.
Streetlights flicker overhead.
I pass houses with open doors
I’m only halfway home
to a place
that doesn’t know me,
and maybe never will.
The door clicks shut behind me.
I walk through the empty house;
silence follows me,
carrying the voice that never made it out.
I thought it would be different,
but nothing changes.
I’m still me.
Still me.
The person who has to wear a mask
everywhere I go.
I remove the mask in my mind,
searching for comfort.
But beneath the face
is still a stranger,
and no one will ever know
Copyright © Steph Leadbetter | Year Posted 2026
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