She wore her mask on every day except Halloween. She only took it off then. When everyone would think. It was the fake.
Sad she thought. How alone I am. Fervent in this sense of self. So determine to defeat the monsters that I have become one of them. That is just the way the war is waged. IN lifetimes. Or longer. In losses. Not victories. That is the color of the sword. Black. As the blood fails to find new skin.
I have worn them all. For far too long. I am not anyone. The mask is over. The costume is dead. I am no one. The wizard. The angel. The witch. The demon.
The only lie they remember as the truth tries on their faces.
0 comments:
Post a Comment