I don’t know who I am any more.
The mask has stuck fast
Public face absorbing private truth
Rictus grin fixed firm
All softeners and simpering
Homilies and ha-ha-has
Jargon and jelly beans
A rough diamond smoothed,
Ground to sand
Trickling through fingers that would claim it
Then hate-baked into a distorted parody
Dead eyes peer out
Locked into a part picked by past practice and present perfidy
Playing the role of a lifetime.
Hear my silent cries, the dry tears,
The balled-up fists beating against the invisible bars
In melodramatic stillness
I pause. This is me.
This has always been me.
Picture courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/fotorita/1687023676 / Creative Commons