Masks

How many masks do I have? Too many I see. But I guess, there are many fish in the sea and all of them will see a different me. I'll keep it like that; walking around, playing a game, flipping between masks until not even I know which me is me and which me is not. Am I bold and blunt? Calm and quiet? Or sullen and silent? I am lost in myself, Trying to find the real me, Yet all those masks I invented All seem so true, Like I was originally all of them, Great acting I guess... Pushing my emotions away from it all, to bring in new ones, the ones the crowds implore. And I can't just let go because I've created whole lives, living behind the lies, I want to keep the peace, not to suddenly cease To be myself, well, as I was to them. A practiced art, one which is tough to start, but once you get going There is no knowing Of where you'll end up Once you're out of luck Falling out of favour Because of this endeavour Destroying relationships As people call you fake And scream at you asking,"What do I do?". Nothing I guess, not really your fault. Ironic, how creating new 'me's to keep others calm Ended up causing chaos and leaving me helpless, alone in their palms