Day thirty-four

Three Masks

I wear three masks. one made

of paper, another of plastic, the last

of metal. The paper mask, flimsy

and frail, wrinkles at the slightest touch--

It creases and bends with ease and a mere

whisper wrinkles it's skin. When I'm

alone I wear the paper one. Too brittle

for public if it's exposed it slowly

disintegrates as though on fire.

The plastic mask molds easily to any situation--

It's the consistency of gel. Words

mold it and it becomes whatever

it touches. When I'm in public

I wear this one. It flows like water

dragged by wind. It will never tear

or break. The last mask I almost never

wear. The metal one never bends or breaks.

It's hard like iron and heavy too. I wear

this gargoyle ugly mask when I'm angry,

Sometimes it is too hard to pick up

and like the paper mask if I wear it

too long it falls apart.

15:08