Come, enter the world behind the curtain,

Were the joy is diluted by the pain

Where the smiles are not constant and not everything is certain.

This is how I look when I shed the act,

This is me when I unfasten the mask,

This is insecure, imperfect, genuine, broken, and cracked,

Damaged,

Emotional,

Scared, and

Loud.

I ache to come out from under my shroud,

My shroud, a safety blanket, self-imposed,

It shields me, it suffocates me, it grows and grows and grows and grows.

But if I drop the shroud, and come out from behind my curtain,

I am vulnerable,

Because I put my true self on the line.

If I am free from the curtain, I am imprisoned by myself,

And by my insecurity and pain,

That I use the mask to cover,

That I use the curtain to hide.