Slipping Mask... - Poem by Annette Aitken
The mask is slipping
this front I bare,
stays buried forever.
A companion of complete wrongness
of dynamic situations or
Like something reflecting my darkness.
I'm not so much doing this to you,
I'm doing it for myself.
To leave the pain behind
where innocence was marred,
tieing up the loose ends.
So new life can begin again.
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