deepundergroundpoetry.com
Mask in the Trash
Not my normal type of poem. Just something I wrote, may be terrible, but I've made peace with that possibility.
Even if it all ends terribly
I’m going to go out me
Even if that changes day to day
The life you’re trying to give me is not my own
A mask I would wear but if you touch my mask
I won’t feel it. My breathing and seeing restricted
Just so I can be someone else, a mask with a smile
I’m sorry mask, I cannot wear you, it takes out the purpose
If I have to frown, it is my skin that will do it, not plastic
If I have to bleed, it will not be color dye fleeing my wrists
But my blood, coppery, red, runny, and all my own
For your effects will fool no patron of the act, and they will know
If I can live a hundred flawless years in a mask, or fifty in this scarred skin
Then I will welcome each new mark and stain on my flesh
As memories of another day, a happy type of mar, or at least a lesson
If I have to drown in a lake, or wear a suit and never touch the water
Then fish me from the depths, covered in the green of the bottom,
Cold and lifeless, the same me as the mask, a face, but I am not behind it.
Even if it all ends terribly
I’m going to go out me
Even if that changes day to day
The life you’re trying to give me is not my own
A mask I would wear but if you touch my mask
I won’t feel it. My breathing and seeing restricted
Just so I can be someone else, a mask with a smile
I’m sorry mask, I cannot wear you, it takes out the purpose
If I have to frown, it is my skin that will do it, not plastic
If I have to bleed, it will not be color dye fleeing my wrists
But my blood, coppery, red, runny, and all my own
For your effects will fool no patron of the act, and they will know
If I can live a hundred flawless years in a mask, or fifty in this scarred skin
Then I will welcome each new mark and stain on my flesh
As memories of another day, a happy type of mar, or at least a lesson
If I have to drown in a lake, or wear a suit and never touch the water
Then fish me from the depths, covered in the green of the bottom,
Cold and lifeless, the same me as the mask, a face, but I am not behind it.
Published 24th Oct 2011
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Anonymous
24th Oct 2011 5:32am
It wasn't horrible! "laughs" Just kidding...I have this theory though, that I will impart to you....I believe if you post everything you write, you have a better chance of getting feedback. There has been great debate in the forums here as to how many submissions we should be allowed to post daily and such...but I digress, my point is, if we just post one piece every now and again, how are we ever to get better? I may have well over 600+ submissions here on DUP already, but the amount of feedback and help from others that I have obtained is priceless...it just depends, that one poem or piece that you may think less of, may turn out to be that gem that everyone loves to read...its unpredictable at best, everyone has different tastes. Some may be turned off to the way I write, while others stay behind me and support my work and efforts...even if they're but a few...at least someone takes the time to read them and comment. That means more to me than being immortalized as a writer...what good does critique and feedback mean to a dead man? I'd rather get it all while I am still here...the good with the bad. I do like the theme and overall idea put into this piece. I have yet to read other work you have done. I like what I see here and will continue to read your future works as well. Keep up the good work, and I hope my advice helps. :)
24th Oct 2011 5:45am
Thank you! I appreciate your advice as I am often hesitant to put a lot of things on here. But I might start posting the stuff that I've considered rubbish. =) Thank you for taking the time to write that response.
Anonymous
24th Oct 2011 5:51am
Your welcome! ;) If you need any help, I am an open book! I am always on here...
24th Oct 2011 4:32pm
I enjoyed your words a lot. One mans rubbish is another mans treasure so they say. X
