Accusation, The Poem by Ben Partenay

do not tell me how i feel inside
i have masks and masks
and many masks for my masks
and what you see is rarely what i am
were you to see me as the inside
of the mask sees me
touch my honest sorrow with cold
wood or stone or obsidian
as black as the soul that i am somedays
you would shiver and look away quickly
no soul can handle the deep honest
truth if seen so close at hand
you were talking today about
how i am never as sad as you
on the day our child passed away
you are sleeping when i am working
on the many masks that day takes
you were looking at my face
when you said it when you should
have been glancing at the ground
seen where the mask leaks
ten thousand tears
sizzling in the sand