My mind is my sanctuary
Of truth and horror.
My Face and my Actions are
My Mask of lies.
I am a copycat,
Taking in everything that
I see.
The things people say,
And the things that         
They do,
I graft into myself,
Adding to the mask,
Endlessly Adding,
To my Mask of Lies,
My Outward Self,
That others see.
What would they do if they saw
My true face?
What would I do?
It’s been so long, I’ve
Absorbed so very much,
I don’t know what I truly look like anymore.
Am I pretty? Am I ugly?
Or am I perhaps beautiful?
I look on as others suffer,
And I wonder,
Why do I
Not seem to feel anything?
There is no blood on my hands,
Nor anywhere else.
I’ve done nothing.
I look and realize
I’ve glued my smile to
My face for too long.
The muscle memory,
The urge
Is deeply imbedded.
I could fear for my life,
And grin like a lunatic.
My painted grin,
My fixed
Expression of happiness,
That I no longer
Want to wear.
Thing I see, I
Continually add,
Actions, Words, Gestures,
Markings,
Tiles of cloth and color
To add to my Mask
As
The Living Patchwork Quilt.