Poems

Masquerade Ball

We spend our lives dancing without even realizing it.

Whether it be at home,

School,

Friend's houses.

I dance all the time.

More than I'd like to.

Some of these waltzes I've had to memorize

While others came naturally.

The one I dance to at home

Is a song I'd like to silence.

I'm forced into tight dresses

That don't allow me to breathe.

The music I dance to

Is slow and repetitive

No room for mistakes, several spins

Where you have to spin fast

And suffer through headaches and pains.

My mom knows fully well it hurts

And she does nothing to aid me,

She just hands me sanitizer

To put over my cuts and bruises.

I put band-aids over them all

To mask the pain she knows I feel.

Fitting into the tight dresses that remain the dress code

I convince myself to eat one less meal.

I've heard someone ask before

"Why do people choose to suffocate

If they've found out how to breathe?"

I'd rather breathe, too -

I'm just unable to.

Between breathing in polluted air

In the dark dungeon I call my house

And suffering though the dances I don't belong in

I barely have a chance to find out what to do

With my free time

With my own music.

I know what I should be dancing to

And I know the mask I need to put on

And I know the dress I need to wear.

The dress chokes me so much

But I have to wear it in her presence.

But I'd rather be dancing to my own music

Experimenting with different looks

In my own room, without prying eyes

I can ditch the mask, I can shred the dress

I can put on a suit, I can cut my hair,

I can use a different role.

I can dance to a happier melody

A more upbeat song

Where the tempo

And the pitch

Are always changing.

Sometimes, however, in my room

I trip and hurt myself.

Sometimes more than others,

That's when my music turns slower and deeper.

I hear my mother knock on my door.

"It's time to dance again!"

She has to constantly remind me

Of the dreadful life

I've known to suffer through and be.

Wiping away the tears

Putting in my hair extensions

I take off my suit, replace it with a dress,

And resume my masked persona.

I tighten the dress corset

To the point where I cannot breathe

But I know it won't fall

And reveal the true me.

My mother knows me as her little girl,

The little princess of the house.

I'd much rather be the prince.

The handsome, charming prince

Who slays the dragon; conquers the beast

And rules how he wants to.

But instead I waste my time

To doll up my face with rotten

Filth that's called makeup

And lace up my heels.

I'd rather be the brave king

Of this fairy tale called life

And not be wasting every ounce

Of my life playing a stupid game

Of pathetic "Cat and Mouse."