WHEN THE MASK FALLS 


Vulnerability attracts and guilty conscience takes over your well being. Ashamed of being different, the mask forms security, underneath rotten and bruised. When the mask falls, your raw self worth sends rays of serenity. The sun rays beams off your skin sending a glow of comfort. I wore the mask, which was sculpted around the circumference of my brown face. Hiding behind the traditional pony tail, sending put downs of negative thoughts. When I took off the mask, I buried it in the earth’s soil and the tight elastic of a hair band was place around my wrist, my naturally curly hair was free with the wind. I stood out, living in a small town of 90% white, I am the minority. “You are the minority and now you’re more of a minority.” Words that didn’t register at first but now sting. She knew that I like girls. Fighting the urge to find the mask that I buried, the mental imagine of me digging deep in the ground with dirt under my fingernails. I’m not ready to come out completely; living in a small and conservative town, I don’t want the backlash. I shouldn’t care what people think and this is why I took off the mask, but memories that trail the way to my childhood, have me staring at the little girl. Running with the wind that weaves through my curly hair, lead me to a sudden stop, looking ahead there was a simmer coming from the ground. I followed the simmer glow and when my eyes fell upon it, my heart drop. The mask was waiting for me. I walked away with a piece of my security blanket.