Broken Glass

I’m a professional at wearing a mask,
but once I’m off the stage it starts to crumble
and I’m left standing with myself.
Looking into a mirror that reflects the past
Of another person’s life.
Something sad and dark and looming in the shadows
Something hurtful and painful and burning at the edges
Of the happy mask, the one I wear.

I’m in another persons’ shoes
Wearing her clothes, and smiling her smile.
I’ll walk a mile in the light,
But once I’m off the road the soles fall apart
And I’m left standing barefoot
Unable to stand the broken glass under my feet.
The brokenness of the other girl’s life,
The one without the mask.