Its a fight, 

Don't let them in!

Don't let it show!

Hiding behind masks, 

a porcelain face, 

a broken child.

"My sweet, my dear"

their whisper soft words,

a certainty to fear for good.

A hidden blade,

crisp with sheer misery,

a flash of swelled egos

and broken hearts.

Begging to leave, 

afraid to go.

Uncertainty closes pained eyes, 

and a new mask is donned.