Mask Of Perfection Poem by Charlotte Andreski

If I opened up to you
I would just have to be true
And stop holding on.

When the pen falls,
The words flow,
A river- fast and clear

Look beneath the surface
Peer under the reflective splash,
And see the dirt, the basis

See not the freak
But the girl inside
Releasing her control

To tell is to die,
Over and over again
A story of her death:

The death of her soul
fed to the wolves,
The only ones hungry to eat it

Didn't leave the body behind,
A bag of bones
And build not off new flesh

Take in my soul,
House it to repair,
But don't deny yourself the despair.

A loyal task
To create a covering mask
To protect that soul for life.

Rip of the mask
And what do you see?
A harmless, damaged soul, still hurt.
From Me