Behind the Mask

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!

For he is not his usual driven, loved, bright eyed and bushy-tailed self.

He lays there having suffered a great lost, a part of himself, and at all cost...

Fortnight and a day ago he came to prattle.

He spoke of a mask of many sorts, clouded mirrors, and a very deep conflicting haggle.

I fell into a dreary spell of disbelief as he willingly began to loosely preach.

Lonely, lost, scared, disparity fell from his pale thin lips with shaken ease.

So long after I begged him to stop for this wasn’t the man I knew and thought.

His incessant rambling continued on up until his frustrated teary eyed gaze was withdrawn.

A brief moment of silence met the room…

“This is who I am!” he profoundly exclaimed as our eyes met again.

Bewildered by his sudden sense of self-proclaimed realization, I couldn’t speak but listened on.

“This is who I am and I’ve been quite the impractical fool having not accepted it before…

I was so caught up in the safety of a mask that it began to bore heavy burdens unlike ever before.”

He let out a painstakingly cry prior to spilling more.

“I’ve… I… I’ve come to realize that what’s within is all that matters…

My internal feelings are what define how I take and interpret the world outside.

I no longer need a mask to make me feel safe in the skin where I reside.”

Later thinking over his troubled thoughts,

I realized as I gazed in the mirror that I too have sought a mask in times of emotional wrought.