THE WOMAN INSIDE

The mask I wear is an old one
Worn for many years
To protect me from the outside world
My pain neatly hidden
Behind layers of silence
Never breaks the surface.

 My mask has a bright smile
On its face, deceiving all
Who dare to look closely
And beneath the smile
Lies a permanent grimace; practiced
And perfect in form.

Perhaps some day I will remove
This ill-fitting mask and try
To make peace with the person behind it
But for now it serves me well
For I am afraid of that woman inside
And she is afraid of me.

By Kathy Houston
www.futuredevelopments.net