I am a collector of masks.
We all wear masks.
Like stage players, we switch them out so dedicatedly
     as the scenes change
     as the plot of the performance waxes and wanes
     as we are joined by other characters who sweep onto the stage
          like so many emotions that likewise take us by storm.
I have only ever known the arches of the masks others wear;
     I have never seen the true face hiding behind the disguise.
When I press my hands against the surface of your face,
     I can't feel the life and warmth that should be there.
My fingertips only graze the cold armor you have so carefully constructed.
You can make your mask
     warm against my palms
     beautiful to my eyes
     soft to the touch
but it isn't real.
You craft your role to please others
     not yourself.
You cut your costume in the same shape as everyone else
     not to accentuate the curves of your own personality
We live under the assumption
     that our masks are all people want to see of ourselves
     that the person hiding beneath could never measure up to what people want.
Do you know how much I despise my collection?
I do not want to be known for knowing the facades that other people greet me with.
I want to see you.
I want to know you.
     Not the you you put on the morning when you put on your coat.
     Not the you you slide into as you slide into the chair behind the school desk.
     Not the you you slip inside of when you slip inside of your friend's car.
     Not the you you hide behind as you hide from opinions that
          you think cut much too deep past your walls.
I want to use my words to ever so gently chisel away the rock you are cultivating around yourself until it cracks away and I can see the fire flickering within.
We keep our light locked tightly away inside of ourselves
     fearing that
          we will blind others
          if we let out a single spark.
Tell me here, and be honest,
     would it be such a tragedy if you were to set the world ablaze?
     would not the light make your path, and mine, glow brighter?
Maybe you wonder about me too.
Maybe you ask who it is dancing through this masquerade we have called life.
     I know that I am just as guilty as you are, as everyone is.
I tell you here, and I am being honest,
     even if you were to cast off your mask in a moment of revelation,
     I wouldn't see you for what you are.
For my mask still remains
As it has for my entire life.
And I have not the courage to leave it behind.