PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I have a variety of masks to wear, how many do you have? My favorite is the mask of mirrors. It proves what I always thought, that everyone wants themselves as a friend. Honestly, I wonder if some people actually believe the people they see in front of them. I never trust anything or anyone, but I believe everything and everyone. My life is surrounded with lies and I'm starting to suffocate. My mask is constricting my oxygen intake, and I can't get it off. The main problem with this particular mask is that it's easy to lose yourself in it. I don't know who I am anymore. I've been ad-libbing it since I was 12. I don't know what I think or feel, my emotions spark on the wrong cues and in situations that call for such emotions they are nonexistent. It's probably my own fault that I had a small conscience and felt no regret for manipulating people, places, and things in my favor. If I have no conscience there is absolutely no consequence to deceiving people. I was wrong. It changed me into a mix-breed. My devious mirror mask has become half tainted of what appears to be my other side. The side that wants to become someone who helps people, to make people happy. But to accept this would mean that this malevolent mask, the one that allowed me to destroy myself and everything I touched was the real me. That's not something I can accept. I'm running but I'm never going anywhere, my memories consistently destroying me inside my mind. October in Shelburne, Ryan, Swing set, Locker 32, Alone, Alec, Insult King, Behind the Wal-mart, My kid that never was. These thoughts are the ones that tear me apart daily. Some are vicious, ruthless and leave me feeling hopeless. Others are more copasetic and make me miss my youth. I hate being noticed. I hate people calling my name. I hate people recognizing me. People don't realize exactly how much of an asshole I was. How much I enjoyed it. I don't deserve to be noticed. I need to earn it, don't make it easy for me. She made me feel worthless because she wanted to help me when she doesn't know who I am. You're not suppose to do that, you make me feel inadequate because all my life I only helped people to heal my own conscience, you helping me out of the good of your heart is just something I don't deserve. One day when I'm ready I'll remove my mask for you, but until then don't like me. I'm not real. I'm completely artificial from my personality to my smile. I'm wearing a mask, and it's making you see someone you would think to be respectable. Nothing more.