I wrote Mask a number of years ago when I was struggling with a serious bout of depression amidst a failing marriage but was too proud, stubborn and ashamed to admit it to anyone else. I could barely accept it within myself, let alone ask for help, because to me it was equivalent to admitting that I wasn't in control of my life and I was a real perfectionist. In hindsight, I see now I could have chosen better of course but it was the route I chose back then. Here it is:

Mask

Unseen tears fall as even now I truly can't show how I feel.
I wonder why that is, that I can't just shout
And scream and say what my heart & soul wants to...
But I choose instead to withdraw into myself and
Pull on my well worn mask of positivity.

We go way back, my mask and I.

More years than I care to admit, even to myself.
So weathered now from overuse,
Thinned to the point of transparency
Yet molded perfectly to my face...
Its vast knowledge of every contour
Gathered from repeated visits to me.

My practiced smile looks so genuine,
Although that it is merely a well honed skill
Crafted to perfection to conceal.
Rarely are we separated.
Like an old friend dropping by,
It comforts me awhile...
But today that is short lived, superficial.

In disgust at myself, I discard it.
In my heart I allow myself to feel the aching pain of lost love,
Missed opportunities and wrenching regret.
I reproach myself over and over
In my turbulent mind.
I could have done more, said more...

To be loved, truly, wholly and completely is a rare and beautiful thing.
I want to be cherished once again, caressed once again.
That's all I ask in life.
To have that chance once again, to be loved, heart and soul,
And to return that love in equal measure.

Once, just once...is that too much to ask?

I cry out in anguish, alone,unheard
This desolateness so familiar to me.
I weep until it racks my body, registering fitful thoughts in
Puzzled amazement that emotional need can tear at you so.
Disillusioned now, I wish it were not so.

I am spent of tears, aching painfully from stifling heartfelt sobs.
Reaching out with unsteady, shaking hands,
I retrieve my mask from the floor. Holding my side
Like a broken doll, I lift it to my tear streaked face.
It glides as smoothly on as a second skin.

I am camouflaged again...

The familiar stranger's eyes in the mirror
Reflect disdain, but I don't care.
It'll get me through another day like it always has
Though in my heart, I ache for that wonderful day
When I can discard it forever.