Masquerade

I am here.
Can’t you see me?
The tears that fall,
only for you,
you can’t feel them.

I scream in your face.
Can’t you hear me?
Oblivious.

You see this face.
It’s not mine.
You don’t see me.
You see the stranger.

I see my reflection.
I see the stranger,
this prison, this hell...
I am trapped inside.

I slash at this face,
this mask that I wear.
It’s my blood that I spill.
This face doesn’t care.
The stranger’s still there.

It crushes me down,
inside this beating heart,
that longs for you,
cries for you,
beats only for you.

This is me.

But you don’t see me.
You don’t hear my screams.
Society stifles them out.
But I need you.

I want you to save me,
hear me,
see me,
kiss me,
love me,
touch me.

Like you touch her.

With scarlet fingers,
I write in sticky crimson on the glass,
‘Why can’t I see who I am in the mirror?’
It runs like the tears on my face.

If I can’t see me,
you can’t see me.

The stranger taints this golden blood,
with mortal instruments.

Help me burn this mask,
this face,
this life,
and live another.

Let’s step back,
take off these faces,
and stop playing this masquerade.