The masks I hide behind,
are like walls;
hundreds of feet high,
and nearly just as thick.

It's sometimes,
next to impossible;
for the real me;
to come out and show
its vulnerable side.

Unless it finds
a crack to slip through,
one that was created,
in an attempt to break free.

Even then thats not such an easy deed.
usually, my true self
gets caught and melds,
with these walls of masks;
to the point where even I
can't figure out, and separate
whats me and whats the mask;
I put on so long ago,
to hide behind.

I've only now discovered,
after so many attempts
to break free;
of these mask like shackles
I personally put on myself;

that there is not one wall;
nor is it four walls;
that box me in;
one for each side;
its a maze;
I have created.
so even if i end up successful
in breaking down a wall,
like tearing off a mask

I'll be faced with another
wall to break;
and until then
another mask to hide behind;
until i have the energy,
to struggle free
from another shackle that binds me.


In a way, I need a reason
to push through these walls;
to claw off these masks.
A reason to be myself.
The "real self".
The one I'm hiding,
possibly even protecting.

there are those i want to show;
my vulnerable; my sensitive self to,
who are a part of the reason
I struggle for freedom.
however sometimes;
they are the very ones
I fear showing myself to;
exposing myself to;
only to be hurt; turned away from; rejected

Then there are those,
who try to break through;
who see through the masks;
or at least try to;
knowing theres a false face at hand.
Who call to me;
trying to see the real;
the whole me.

As apposed to those;
who have caused,
the re-enforcement of these walls;
and cause attempts to mend the cracks,
I fought so hard to create.
So I can hide away from pain;
defend myself from attack;
keep myself safe;
from betrayal and judgment.

There are days
where I question,
the values of my masks.
If they really are masks,
for me to hide behind;
a series of walls,
that create a endless maze,
of confusion and self reflection.
What if these walls;
these masks;
I think I'm hiding behind,
are just another side of me,

and the cracks I find myself
caught in;
even fused with;
is the self I've been so desperate to find,
and to blind to see.