You may be surprised to know that this is not my true face.
This is a mask; I was born wearing it.
It hides the swollen curvature of my cheek bones,
It covers my bloodied lips from view.
I only untie the strings for two people
Not mother, not father, not family
But /family/
I wish I could be like you...
This mask is heavy, you know.
Though it could be loosened at any time,
Though it will slip off my face the second I coax it into submission,
I want you to be the one to slip these strings between your knuckles.
If only I could be like you.
Your mask has never seen a day on your face.
But, plain and simple,
It is the duty of people like you to help people like me.
This mask is bound with no ordinary knot.
No, it is held tight by a wretched ball of thread,
The strings soaked through with blood and tears.
So stretch out your hand.
Before the day is out, this ceramic facade
will be gone from my persona,
And you
And everyone
Will see my face
