Hiding
You would never know it to look at her-
There are no outward signs of the torment raging inside her,
The torment behind the mask she is told she must wear.
Indeed, she has worn it so long that it is now a part of her.
So now, with ease, she smiles when she is in pain, laughs when she faints, downplays the horrible torment that she fights daily.
But now, the mask is beginning to crack.
She is tired of faking it- tired of playing this part.
“I wonder,” she asks, “what others would do if they knew what lies beneath the mask?”
The war against pain, against fainting rages, trying to consume her.
And every victory is costly and paid for with tears and pain.
She is weary, tired, and wants to take off the mask- just for a while, just so others can see and she can take a breath.
But others tell her- “no, you must leave the mask on- perk up, and play the part of the happy young woman, the helpful volunteer, the dutiful daughter.”
But they don’t realize that the war inside her is causing the mask to break- and there are choices that have to be made now.
Should she leave the mask on, despite the fact that it will drain her of more precious energy? Should she abide by what society tells her is right- “don’t show it”
Should she take it off and finally surrender to the fight?
Or does she simply keep fighting, forgetting the mask, using it only when needed?
And when she does fight, she removes the mask, adds it to her arsenal, and then she can show the world her true face- war weary, but never surrendering, she will fight to the end and she will win, and on one bright, glorious day, she will stand victorious, with the mask broken at her feet.
