I can see them

I know that they are there

Keeping me tense with their close distance

Following me without fanfare

I don’t know who they are

Nor why they stalk behind me

But these silent footsteps are silently driving me mad

And they’re much too close to flee

I’ve walked this route for years

And have never seen them go past

Theirs is not a face that I’ve come to face as a part of my routine ...

This mask is tied

Onto a lonely hide

Over meat that long since withers

And banks where tears carved rivers

This mask is tied so tight

This mask is slipping

With a sound of ripping

Strings torn away from gilded bone

And pearls scraped off of silver dome

This mask slips into the night

This mask is hung

Off of a rung

Where young soles of rubber

And dark whispers mutter

This mask is hung in li...