the mask is slipping.

for years,

endless years,

my front has remained strong,

appearance unwavering,

the smile across my face

a constant.

the mask is slipping.

when it happened is unknown,

how the descent began,

but soon enough

I won't be able to keep it up any longer.

the mask is slipping.

they're going to know.

they're going to find out

how while my days seemed joyful,

the nights that followed were

darker and deeper than

even the ocean trenches.

the mask is slipping.

it's slipping,

my mask,

it's slipping, and I

don't know how to

stop it, I don't

know what they'll

say, every time

I think about it

the mask

slips

more,

and it just

keeps

fading,

and soon I

might

be

gone.

but then I wonder

when the mask is finally gone

if the mask was the only barrier

between me

and a world of light.