The problem with a mask is this: eventually you can't take it off. You look in the mirror unable to identify where you end and the lie begins. I am 20 years old. I weigh 118 pounds and still sometimes starve myself. Most days I'm content, but sometimes the darkness still whispers about our old times. Back when darkness meant red streaks on brown wrists and tear stained pillows were normal. Back when I sewed the smile on my lips to cover the burning inside. Sometimes i miss the burning as if feeling is only worth it when it's pain. I'm learning to befriend happiness. Teaching myself joy remembering how laughing can reach your eyes and scars fade. I can see the sun, but sometimes I still want to touch it. To be consumed by the fire. A reminder that I'm here. I have trust issues and lie more than I tell the truth. I want to love, but most days I label myself unworthy. I look in my boyfriend's eyes and see the innocence that shakes me to my core. I go to sleep some nights praying I don't wake up in the morning. But I'm here fighting everyday through the desire to ignite.
Mask~KMD
