They put on their mask
And walk around as though
We can’t see the cracks
They view the world
Through the eyes of the mask
They smell the air,
Convolute comments,
And speak twisted words
Through their mask
At what point does it no longer
Rest on their nightstand?
When do the cracks
Grow real flesh?
When does the light
Stop seeping in?
And at what point do I
Quit being surprised?
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