by Arielle Jan 5
What do you see
when you look at me ?
The mask I wear to
present to the world ?
Or, do you truly see me,
the real me hidden behind ?
Do you see the scars
and look away in disgust ?
See the broken and
look on me with pity ?
My pain, my scars,
they are my story.
Do I dare let you read it ?
Will you turn the pages quickly,
or slowly take your time ?
When you're finished,
will I become a book forgotten on a shelf,
or a cherished read,
read time and time again;
committed to memory ?
If I gave myself to you completely,
no masks,
would you look at me with eyes of love
or hand me back my mask and say...
"You look better this way."
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