Strength is a Illusion, a mask upon you Face.
But if you run from Sadness, Sadness is sure to chase.
I crack is all it takes to split your mask in two.
Then the sadness will strip to down, just leaving you.
Bare and Naked on the Floor.
The sadness will be no more.
To get back up and weld a mask,
to restart the toilsome task.
To end up back at the start
But you suffer from broken Heart.
"Do you fear death?"
The question loomed in the air before my body, as if a sword looming over someone almost conquered by their enemy. But I looked down at my hands and then back up, only to say, "Have you ever felt the pain of watching two lovers embrace at the end of a movie? It's supposed to be a happy ending. But your heart tells your lungs to stop breathing for just a minute because it will never ever be yours."
"Do you fear death?"
A question repeated deserves an answer. But instead, my trembling hands sat clenched on my lap, the blue ink like veins showing through the frail covering that might rip apart any second. "Do you kno
I pretend to be content
with my body.
I pretend I'm satisfied
with how I look.
Truth is, it's all part of the mask,
another façade
which keeps me from being happy.
Who knows
if the mirror is lying to me,
if I'm just lying to myself.
It doesn't matter.
I'll think this, anyway.
Maybe it just takes plastic surgery,
maybe I should diet.
Maybe there's nothing to help me become
what I would consider beautiful.
Am I afraid I would be something I'm not?
I've never been "beautiful".
At least, I've never seen myself that way.
My friends tell me
I'm gorgeous.
There's nothing wrong with me.
But do they really mean it?
Are they