Inside it controls.
Inside rage.
Inside pain.
Inside bursts of tears.
Silence.
It hides in the chaos-filled voices that live in life.
See the girl who sits and cries.
Behind the mask of gaudy joy, tears fall.
Encased in plastic she keeps her senses.
Ignore it.
Ignore it.
You cannot feel it.
There’s nothing really there.
Pain should be hidden, says the Silence.
Pain isn’t really there, the Silence says.
Not a person, a slave.
The girl bows to the Silence, and walks away.
The mask welds to her.
And like a doll she does not feel.
The rattling, plastic jar fades away.