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The Porcelain Mask


Beautifully written. Pretty much what I feel every now and then too.

A Flickering Flame

Behind the mask she sits,

Anger boiling to the brim.

Behind the mask she stares,

Fighting fears deep within.

Behind the mask she stays,

Frustration filing away at her bones.

But she sees no other way to live,

Than to wear a mask of stone.

Her mask is only porcelain.

It would shatter at the gentlest tap.

Without her mask she’d be exposed,

And she doesn’t think she’d survive that.

She tried to let them in once,

A long, long time ago.

The kind eyes and gentle smiles

Must have just been for show,

For they ripped and tore her innards,

Sending her into an emotional drought,

Teaching her an irrevocable lesson:

It’s better just to keep everyone out.

So, behind her mask she’ll sit and wait.

Hoping that they’ll come along some day.

Someone she can trust enough

To protect her flesh

As they pull the porcelain away.

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