Masks

i have a row of masks

which do i put on today

all so very pretty

even the most horrifying ones

have their alluring qualities

they sit in their row waiting

my eager fingers brush each as i walk by

tingling shoots up my arm

and straight into my heart

relaying the same question

that plays over and over in my mind

who will i be today?

which lie shall i place

upon my wretched face

to cover the ugly truth

for you see i have a row of masks

waiting eagerly to be worn

but which one shall i be