that I use to cover
the mask that is my face
Cracks in the facade that I'd
pulled up to keep the world
from noticing the cracks in me.
Every tendril forward it inches
as a little pressure nudges it
Loud thunder-like rumbling in my ear
a perfect storm of my emotions
Earthquake around me
Plaster by my side
Plaster long hardened
I should have thought ahead
should have had the foresight
But who does these days? Not even
God. Can answer all these questions
Answers to be had
when the facade rips itself off
the pieces tumble down
Wood that falls on me as I stumble to take shelter
but the judgement after
That makes me cringe
The judgement after
the very thought
shamefaced, stripped naked, I stand before them.
I stand, and they only point and jeer.
They laugh at the little girl I am.
They laugh at my uncouth, nearly inhuman tendencies
as I cry.