the space station hums with the early morning traffic, the wafting of coffee and fresh croissants filling the air. for the first time, you are not behind your desk, hitting your shins on the weirdly placed piece of metal, but strapping yourself insi...
satin silk tarnished at the touch of your fingertips used far too much and far too often
it looses its smoothness first then it's color then the straps that glued it too your face until all that is left is the back bone of what was once there
without the silk mask the dress is nothing you burn and curse it's folds until all that is left is the inner workings
you can't go to the ball anymore without your silk mask and dress you are no one, nothing
before you were the queen among queens the richest among the richest all gone with the silk
until all that is left is just you, the very backbone of it all
in a rush of confidence you go striding through the dark woods barging into the ornate ball no mask and burnt dress
there is silence bitter painful silence in a room of beautiful people with beautiful masks
all putting a side out of themselves they wanted the world to see
you knew this game you had played it before but now you stood triumphant
all tattered dress and no silk mask you stood brave and true away from the poison of the masks all others seemed to hide behind
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