The Ugly Truth
I’ve become a master at the mask.
It’s not a mask to hide treachery,
or a mask to hide true intentions.
But it does hide the truth.
It does hide the sneer when I change my clothes.
The fat, everywhere, spilling all around me.
Choking me, hiding me, keeping me from being.
It swallows me whole and buries me alive.
It does hide the ambivalence when I look in the mirror.
The too big nose, the freckles multiplying year by year.
The missing tooth that shames my grin into a tight-lipped smile.
The double chin, proof my face is next in the adipose quicksand.
It does hide the shame that I am unemployed.
No contribution, to society or family.
No longer a provider, only a consumer,
Taking more than I give; security a thing of the past.
It does hide the fear that I won’t make it in school.
That something will happen to keep me from finishing,
Meaning no more steps in my quest toward higher education.
Or that I just won’t measure up to the A standards I set for myself.
It does hide the anger…oh, the anger, like a live thing inside me.
It writhes and grows and taints everything I, even inadvertently, allow it to touch.
It slithers around the corners of my mind and heart and soul and eats up the pure,
Leaving its bitter trails to taunt my spirit…but it also cloaks the hurt.
It does hide the inadequacy. Too much of this, not enough of that.
I’m not worth the effort it takes to be true to word.
I’m not valuable enough to do the right thing.
And I’m too much to handle-much too demanding and pushy and proud.
It does hide the pain…the sheer destruction that trusting people has brought to my soul.
The deserted shell of my heart, wind howling through the cracked and shattered windows,
Dust and tumbleweeds, shattered dreams, unkept promises; they’re all the same.
Just reminders of why retreat beats surrender in the war with the world.
It does shield the ones I love from the truth…the ugly truth.
Ugly outside, ugly inside. Not good enough, strong enough.
Not pretty enough, not fun enough, not smart enough.
Not valued. Not honored. Not worthy. Not anything.
But the mask? It doesn’t hide anything from me.
*I closed comments on this post. I know my friends disagree with much of what I just wrote. I’m glad you do, because you wouldn’t be much interested in being my friend if you did agree. But that doesn’t change that I feel like this about MYSELF, right now. I haven’t always, and I won’t always, I’m sure. But right now, this is what is inside me. Sometimes it’s hard to hear the positive comments when you are just trying to be real.
