Masks

      
The lying mirror            
whispers,                
you are brave,                
and noble,                
wearing the the face we wish to see,          
hiding our loneliness,                
dying inside              
in the masks so carefully chosen                  
                
"Does this mask go with these high heels"                
Pretend intimacy                
and deep communion,                  
our masks never slipping,                
never allowing anyone inside          
as false faces give away our souls,                      
never seeing between the lies          
that the mirror hides                    
                
The shell becomes our sum and total,                
our soul screaming in the dark,                
screaming in the middle of the night                
for someone to reach out      
and touch our tears                
without the smothering masks          
                
How noble,                
how brave,                
to chain our souls                
and live within the mirror,                
forsaking all the world