My face, distorted in the sun
under my right eye a deep scar remembers
the pain of abuse, and the tears he has left me inside
I could not cry under this mask, yet I find another route
To avoid pain I write with beautiful words that are yet contrite
unmasked am I yet still the searing pain hurts as a frying pan hits
my very palm. No one understands this hurt I carry
no one knows much about me.
Masked i am nothing,
Unmasked I am someone holding
onto too much pain.
Seering, yet seeing still I see yet a different picture.
I leave my mask at the door.