I am a girl of many faces.
Many different people reside inside.
Some days I am fragile, frail,
And the slightest puff of wind
will knock me down.
Other days I am strong and fierce,
Pursuing my prey with a superior calculation
rivaled by no man or beast.
Sometimes I am aloof;
I’m invisible and indifferent, an observer.
Outside my interest is masked,
but inside I am a hopeless romantic,
waiting for the proverbial perfect moment
that never existed.
My outfit for today includes my favorite mask.
Humor runs over it, into it, seeping through it
until it is the embodiment of hilarity.
Then I take my place on the stage
And perform for you.
Only you.
I take my bow,
anxiously waiting my hungered applause.
Of course I receive none.
But is that not the point of the façade?
The intension of the varied masks?
They hide my true feelings so none may know
the passion that is me inside.
The door to the mask’s removal has as yet
Found no key.
The bearer of the key may be absent,
But still I play,
Weaving my lie,
waiting for the bearer of the key to appear.
But until that day,
I shall act my soul out.