Friday, December 11, 2009

I got up this morning and put on the "No-really-I'm-OK" mask. No one ever looks below the surface. So I am safe under its crystal perfect smile. But I am afraid someone will look too closely at it and in doing so their breath will shatter that fragile veneer. Or that one of those intuitive as hell friends will sense the falseness immediately and demand it off.

That thin mask is the bung holding in the rage. Holding in the tears. Holding in the hurt so that I can go through the motion of a day without imploding. Just leave it be.

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