The masquerade…

The doubt and fear begin to fall away.

I grasp the mask in my trembling hand.

I have worn it like a shield of sorts; it has become a part of me.

But the time has arrived to strip the mask away.

To yield only that which is true.

I claw at the mask with both hands now.

Pieces begin to break away.

It shatters in my hands.

I make fists and crumble the pieces into dust.

And then I look up.

Reflecting in the mirror is a face I hardly recognize.

Yet, it is one I have missed.

There you are, girl.

I’ve been looking everywhere for you.

© 2021 by Kelly Michelle

Arrival | Geetha Balvannanathan's Blog - Isis Tratum

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