When I put on a mask

When I put on a mask,
I put on two masks. 
The invisible mask hides
(or attempts to)
the constant pain and fatigue and and and 
that has made up my life for - oh - half a lifetime now; 
helps others to cope 
with what I live with,
whilst I smile, smile. 
The pretty mask, 
- the home-made one with long-loved fabric - hides
(or attempts to)
something of the fear of stepping out
into the now-unknown; 
protects 
(or attempts to)
this fragile body from further assault.  
Yes.
Two masks. 
Two lives.


Sarah M is a freelance writer & editor.
 

More LIVE writing...

golden straw and grass against the sunset

The boy with the golden hair

hand print cave paintings

Writing the 'archive of now'

William Morris

How does newness cover silted gold?

screenshot 2021 07 05 8 21 48 pm

Frosty Lace Curtain Unveils the Fathoms of the Sea