We make masks to hide ourselves.... to hide away. We wear them so long that they grow into our face and by the time we want to take them off we can't. They've melded into our very being, and in the end the lines have all blurred. witch face is the mask? You lose yourself forever. Who are you really? Do you even know?
YOU ARE READING
Original Poetry
PoetryShort poems written by me (warning possible trigger warnings in future)
