Not me

Not me

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación mié, ago 15, 2018
As a child, I had clay masks hung upon the wall
With strong nails, I was reassured they would never fall
Some painted with sparkles, stars or a musical note
The best one, had a peacock with feathers that float
I wore them, everyday, never a day, or whenever I pleased
No matter the words I heard, I wore them even if teased
But then one day, I grew old
"Those aren't the right masks for you," I was told
New ones were bought for me, hung upon my wall
And it didn't matter if the old ones were knocked over to fall
Childhood dreams, stomped and crushed and left
Because these new masks, I was told, is what fit best I'm 34 years old. I'm tired, burnt out and beat down emotionally from my husband. I've quit my job, taken a $30,000 loan from the bank and I'm running away. In search of a better...mask
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You thought your phone was broken when it read nine-forty-three in the morning while it was pitch black outside. One look at social media gave you all the information you needed to know what was happening. The sun was gone. Everywhere, in every state, city, country. Not only that, but people were making up all kinds of excuses for why it was missing. Yet, with each hour that passed, it kept worsening. People began looting in major cities, creating mobs to rush important buildings or block off busy roads. You, living in a semi-large city, could hear the sounds from afar; until those sounds turned to screaming, yelling, running. There were things out there. Things that wanted to hurt you. People that wanted to hurt you. Will daybreak ever come again? Or was this new, apocalyptic setting forever your new reality? ...And why did a masked, bloodied, man just break into your bathroom? ORIGINALLY POSTED ON QUOTEV.

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