The One Left Breathing
My body was the one left breathing
Though two of us died that day.
And to thank my lungs for continuing their task
I was bestowed
A mask
Its name was the same as mine
Or at least what mine once had been
What was left of my mind called me Griever
Orphan
Like a puppet on a string
A mindless empty thing
I was a marionette above a net
On a tight rope
One wrong step and I’d fall
So I made a façade and put on a show
So when the curtains rose I was ready to go
And I gave them a mask that they thought was me
How stupid could they be?
But I had no choice.
My hands were bound
My feet were shackled to the ground
Where he was buried underneath
My mask showed many colors
I was a blot of gray
So bland and lifeless and all souled out
I’d eventually fade away
I needed it to save my sanity
To be my shard of grace
Because underneath was a withering beast
Who had torn out her hair
Whose body was bare
And who needed a mask to survive.
I had to be someone that was not me
I had to be or I would cease to be
I would give up like him.
So the true me, you wouldn’t want to see
Because two of us had died that day
But my mask was the one left breathing