Masks
Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing here. Who am I? Is it who I should be? Am I even who I am or am I making myself someone else, putting on another face?
After so many masks I start to forget they’re on. So used to wearing them, I can’t tell anymore if I have one on or not.
Maybe that means I’m never without one and I can’t tell the difference from one face to the next because they differ only to the world. To me they all look like the back side of a mask.
