The mask is slipping.

It’s slimy

And leaves a residue —

Dark spots close to embedded on my face.

The mask is grimey.

It smells bad and leaves a weird taste in my mouth:

One I’m too scared to name.

I have no idea what it is

When I donned it over my head

And when it will go away —

When I want it to go away.

Perhaps it will never go away

So I readjust the mask back on.