Maybe I'm Just Getting Older

Mask

Take each mask

That I hide behind

To the point where

There is nothing to hide

Of mine

What I thought was mine

Was a plagiarism unwinded

Of who I really am

Left in a place

Where I can find it

Rip each script

Written in fear of rejection

A collage of people

Pleasing words to mask

My imperfection

My stage with the

Scene set in deceitful bliss

Putting my made up stories

On display and setting my

Truth on fire with a wish

I could be authentic

But isn't authentic a

Recipe for lonely

Laced with whispers

Of "I never meant it"

I could be an open book

But aren't books things

That even the careful rip

And tear

But the stories inside

Are ones that I don't

Want to share

I want my heart

To commit to the

Beat of itself

Instead of the pulse

Of being pushed around

By thoughts I thought

I already repelled

The echoes of what people say

Ring louder than the

Voice that reminds me

That I am here to stay

Because I never know

That the dreams I wake up from

Don't melt like a flake of snow

They are relentless recurring

And want to grow

They are the roots

Before the leaves show

And push through the

Canopy of everybody's "no"