The Mask

Each day as the light stands by the uncovered gaps of her window blinds, she lies in bed staring above her at the ceiling.
A thousand thoughts running through her head as she lies still. ‘Another day of unhappiness’, she keeps thinking.
She showers, dresses, but before she leaves to begin her day, doesn’t forget that porcelain object she has gotten used to living with now.
How it has saved her from many  heartaches and kept her together – such a hard task deserves a bow.
Each day she wears it on her face, her tired eyes sunken and empty,
It is the eyes that reveal a person’s true soul, true heart, at times it can be hard to see.
Her cheeks are chaffed from the constant moistness they experience from the salty tears that fall. 

Now she is facing new battles she must be strong to stand tall against, Though in battle she cannot see what she is fighting against or at times what she is fighting for, the fog around her heavily dense. Even the porcelain mask can’t withstand all she is to face, it breaking day by day and night by night. She once had hope, a goal in which carried her and kept her upright and strong, but slowly by slowly she is losing sight. The cracks are now appearing to reveal underneath, a face torn and cut. The people around her who were supposed to be supporting her and keeping her afloat doing everything but.

Soon the mask she believed would help her would shatter into a hundred pieces like her heart inside her chest. A girl once happy and hopeful now scared, lonely and depressed


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