I

A laughable jester, dancing merrily around.

The persona of the arts

Is a clown of sorts

That hides a gray and serious inner core.

II

Like Juliet atop the balcony,

Smiling down to a handsome Romeo,

This persona of happiness comes to the light--

While meeting with the most loathsome people

That could make diamonds crumble under the pressure

Of their glares.

III

A notion of surety, a quick and definite choice.

“No indecision,” yells this persona

At the person inside who cannot

Decide on what cereal to eat for breakfast.

IV

Blank slate that sits listening.

This persona is all ears.

“Oh my! Really?” or “That’s so interesting!”

Speaks the outer coat.

When the counterpart would strongly prefer

The soothing tones of music over that annoying voice.

V

A rampaging flamethrower--a raving forest fire--

Is covered by a persona

Of bubble wrap and extra blankets.

To keep the fire from burning through to the surface

And turning everybody to ash.

VI

Okay persona. Okay persona.

A pink and yellow shield that holds back

a large wave of the

Utmost

Melancholy.

VII

A break in my thoughts:

Do they see through these personas?

Is the sound of my true self loud enough for them to hear?

Or...

Can they sense the faux facial expressions?

VIII

A coffee cup that keeps refilling.

I’m awake I’m awake I’m awake.

This persona has eyes pulled wide open.

And muffles the yawns that threaten to escape from my mouth.

IX

The persona of lifted chins and relaxed shoulders.

Before transcending into the scariest scenario.

This person hunts down

And strangles the butterflies that flit around my guts.

X

The mask of innocence

Sits upon layers of evil deeds.

The most important persona

For covering up the monsters under the bed.

XI

At home, at home,

The washboard comes out.

Will the persona rub off of my sweatshirt?

I need to scrub harder.

XII

So built up, this collection of personas.

Like a red wall constructed brick by brick.

Made up of all of these necessities.

And infinitely many more.

XIII

Like washing dirt from hair,

It takes a while to isolate myself from the facade

Of each and every persona.

I can let myself out, only

Only,

When I’m alone.

+++