(Poem) Mask of Lies

Everyone has a mask, don’t they?
A mask of lies that covers their face.
Everyone has something they’re hiding away—
something deep, secret, hidden…

But me? No, I’m not like these folk.
I don’t have these fake facades or cloaks.
I let my thoughts just fly away
like pesky flies that can’t find way.
I let them out in droves of filth
upsetting those who’re in my way.
I let them out to wash afar
in whiffs of musk and odd disarray.
And only then do I suffer
as these masked everyones fight back,
spittin’ tongue and prose like no other,
cutting through my brain like butter.

I don’t have a mask like them—
a disguised veil to hide my face.
These verbal knives and blades lacerate
and I fall flat, face first, battered and torn.
Flailing, I reach forth, stretching
farther than the skies,
swishing about at an empty air just to find
a mask.
And when my fingers finally curl,
when the cover’s finally on, secured,
I breathe a sigh, deep and wide, as the taunts
fall short, the words, inaudible,
and I realize…

Everyone has a different face—
a mask of lies that covers their state. Everyone
including me.

But mine’s not used for lies.