Through the course of a day, I see your many faces. Each just showing the world what they want to see. Not what you feel. I can see it. The real you. The pain, the anguish, the sorrow. Tearing you up on the inside, but still maintaining your facade. I can see the dampness of your shirt, where you dry your tears. Physically you seem fine, but there are too many lacerations from where aggression and suffering have taken over. The self mutilation. Cuts across the wrists, the beatings, the sunken in faces from lack of sleep and food. I must turn in disgust from how you truly look. Each word is able to be seen as well as heard. The impact of them cutting deep, leaving scars as they pass. So much violence transferred through the use of words. They are knives penetrating, puncturing, piercing deep into the thin protective layer that covers you from the cruelty that is this world. Nowadays I have come to see this appauling act. These masks are resilliant and reflect your true being. I guess seeing them is considered a blessing. To be able to see determine your nature by looking at the scars. They need to be mended from time to time, need touch-ups to keep them bright, need the attention to notice these, or else the masks will fall apart, and the life with it. The masks that are worn, are ones of slef expression. Of feelins you share with me. You are scarred, by sharp words that bore deep into the very flesh. The tears and blood shed because of this are not ones with reason. I am the 1st to learn of the destruction of my mask. So much pain and sorrow because you dont take the time to notice or think or learn from what you say. This is the key to the many masks that you wear.
This is another piece from writers group... that i had written, so let me know what you think n_n
Micha_Xaquz · Mon Dec 05, 2005 @ 01:25am · 3 Comments |