My Masks

I have my own little corner of the house

It isn’t much 

It isn’t big

But it is mine

It is warm and cozy and comfortable

It helps me breathe. 

Here is my safety

To be who I truly feel I am

It is in this space where I can tell my truth

Maybe even Be my truth, 

Even if it is only for a little while

Out there, in the rest of this cavernous house

I am the old me

I am in hiding, in exile, in waiting

Out there I need to put on my masks

Of patience, of duty, of interest, when inside I am screaming

Out there I am a wife of a business owner

And I feel the need to perform like she should

Out there I am a mother, whose children’s needs always erase her own

Out there I am a liar and a fake; but it is a skin I’ve worn for so long

It feels real