The Mask

What's behind the mask? Is it worry, fear, doubt? Dreams that have felling apart? Maybe it's what we can't tolerate of ourselves Parts that we hate and we get ashamed of Pain and hurt inflicted by a sharp knife in the hand of a loved one We don't understand , we just pretend Hide , smile and say you're okay we breath but don't live we take up space but carry emptiness the mask looks pretty but fragile is the humanity in the fakeness...