My mask, just like the others

Has cracks in the cheekbones and odd places

Just below the temple

And across the brow

You might wander

Up and down a hall

In and out of rooms long forgotten

Before you notice these cracks

They take a moment or two

To see that not all masks are flawless

Some are flawed

Kept together by the secrets of one’s childhood

If you wish to reveal their secrets

You must first reveal your own

What good is a mask

If it hides nothing

But a lie

I rather my mask hide the truth

I rather wear a lie

Right next to my brow and along the cheekbones

Chip

Chip

Chip away at these cracks of mine

Paint a portrait that hides nothing but lies