I shed my face and claim another,
Only to discard it in the end as well.
A different mask for each occasion,
Another falsehood to shroud myself in.
So many cling to them,
Hide behind them,
Even cherish them.
What fools they are,
Individuality watered down into the grey paste of acceptable society.
Even religion tries its hand at the cookie cutter follower,
Shunning those whose interpretations stray from long held belief.
So many heave their masks on those around them,
Never caring if the weight crushes them.
I find myself unable to breathe and I am nearer to hyperventilation.
I hide myself in seclusion,
And the weight gratefully easies.
Im sick of these masks,
And oh how I so long to be rid of them.
Another mask trickles down the endless pile,
How I hate my face.
I hate my face.
This is quite lovely and i believe it to be accurate. People hide behind masks for many reasons. either for conformity or to keep a wall up between them and the others. The latter is my case. Only in writing can I comfortably shed my mask and be myself.
I was thinking about a similar theme recently; the intentional use of "masks". You wear one intentionally and for the purpose of becoming that mask but conciously aware its false. However if you wear the mask long enough does it not then become the norm? "You had a bad day once, am I right? I know I am. I can tell. You had a bad day and everything changed.