Masks of Identities

Leoanda Taylor

Everyone thinks I'm smart.

Everyone thinks I'm caring.

But I'm not.

I feel no emotion. But only the continous numbing where the pain used to be. Each night I dream, of the days nightmares, of the days tears.

But all of this must be kept in. No one must suspect.

Uh oh.

I'm not crying as death is being told to me. Better put on the mask. One of my identities.

It's working, they fell for it. Again. These masks come in handy. They keep doors closed and people away. And that readers, is the way it must stay.