One Answer

My mask has kept me hidden. Kept my emotions in check. But I begin to wonder. Is it really me, or the mask? Who's in charge here? It always comes to one answer. A life hidden from the worst, Hidden from human emotion. I've always had a shield between myself and my very nature Is it wrong? It always comes to one answer. I come off as warm, caring, But is it me? Or am I cold, unflinching under the mask? I think about it and... It always comes to one answer. So sometimes I let the mask slip. One day, I'll take it off. One day I'll burn it, Destroy it, erase it. But can I really do it? It always comes to one answer. My mask is my enemy. My emotions are my enemy. But I must pick one. Safety, protection, at the cost of lying? Or anger and hurt to shed some truth? It always comes to one answer. And so the mask stays on. Life is hard, but easier emotionless. Sometimes I regret my choice. Regret lasts longer each time, doubt creeping in. Should I have gotten rid of it when I had the chance? It always comes to one answer. My mask killed me. Not literally. But I don't exist anymore. My mask took control, became me. Apathy? Nothingness? What am I? It keeps asking itself. It never comes to an answer.