Mute harlequin

He sits there
in his pale mask
with pale skin
locked in a pale room
with a pale soul
typing pale words
for a pale poem
to a pale website.

The chalked heart in his chest
reaches out to grasp others' necks
and squeeze until a breath is no more.

His mask talks to those close to him
uttering disgusting lies
saying he's fine and not shattered.

But he stays silent
to prevent the gargoyle trapped beneath his flesh
from lashing out and massacring the hearts and minds
of others.

When looking in the mirror
he sees the shadow dancing erotically
in his bleeding, torn soul
but others just see a slit across his face.

The mask torments and mocks him
"WHY AREN'T YOU MORE LIKE ME?! CRACK A SMILE EVERY NOW AND THEN YOU PSYCHO FREAK!!"
But he just sticks more knives in his ears
to mute the harlequin
that he pretends to be.