My Mask

I always wear a mask of happiness so people don’t worry, so people don’t look at me with pity, so people don’t treat me like glass that could shatter at any minute, so people can’t use my pain against me.

But as soon as I am alone, the mask slips off, and all that is left is a hollow chest with dull aches, a broken and burnt heart, and thoughts that keep me up at night, sending tremors through my chest.

I wear this mask so I can be loved someday. I wear this mask to protect the people I care about from worrying. I wear this mask to protect me.