My mask is
Made of wax
Fashioned to resemble something human
And to fluctuate, to change with
The seasons and
Emotions I do not feel.

My mask
I thought I knew it
Knew its appearance, knew it
Well
But I have been
Led along, betrayed.

I am suffocating,
Asphyxiated
By the fumes it has created
By burning life, love and true joy
By leaving only morbid indifference
Alive in its devastation.

My mask
I thought I made it well,
Modeled it to the
Shape required from me, I did;
I thought that
It obeyed me,

And yet it has
Betrayed me
Has slowly poisoned me
Inside
Reaching where
It never should have had.

My mask
It has betrayed me
It is slowly taking over
It is killing me from the inside out
It is reaching in
When I made it only to keep others out.

Instead
It is keeping me confined in a
Tiny part of myself, a fraction of
My being
And occupying
All that I leave empty
.

My mask,
It is
Made of thick, heavy coats of wax
Which have melted and are
Sticking
To my heart.