I Want the Mask, Not the Woman

I would rather see

The mask she carries

I would rather deal with

The petty difficulties

Thoughts and fears

Held on the surface

Of that mask


On the mask

It is sweet

On the mask

Is the face of the person

I chose

To make my home with


But under the mask

Hidden from me

There is

A darker face


It worries

And worries

Breathing poisoned thoughts

In her mind (the mind of the face on the mask)

Trying to get her to see things

Its way

Trying to peer through the mask

And use the pink lips

To say its thoughts


Not stay hidden


But whenever

It speaks

A scar

Marks her pretty face

Scar after scar

Until she is as ugly

On the outside

As on the inside


I wish now

That I had talked to her

Taken her to therapy

Before the beauty on the outside

Had been marred by the ugliness


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