when I fell in love
with the mask
it had been worn so long
the wearer didn’t know it was there
either
I made many mistakes and overlooked the peeling
at the edges
her only mistake was underestimation
she grew to understand a self beneath
the mask but wouldn’t tell me outright
hoping I would see through it or puzzle out
what had taken her lifetime
over time, the one she died to become
grew resentful towards my affection
for the facade
believing I couldn’t love the person wearing it
perhaps even that nobody could
I could have
if I had ever met them
that mask was painstakingly chiseled off
whereas mine, less secure, fell suddenly
in an empty playhouse
crashing on the stage
shattering on impact
X marks the spot