My Mask

I wear this mask to protect myself

I hide behind it, secretly peering out

Seeing without being seen

 

I see your world

I write about its defiant depths

I write about its dizzying heights

I write about the width and breadth of it

 

I am like the child

Trying to feel the thrill of the roller coaster

By standing beside it watching others faces

I can feel the shaking as it rumbles past

But I will never know the cold feel

Of that bar cinched down across my lap

 

I am your secret admirer

Always watching as you live your life

Trying desperately to feel your passions

But from the safety of my mask

The words behind which I cower

 

Desire drives me

Fear restrains me

If I could, I would not

If I would, I could not

My hands shake and my palms sweat

And the words cover my angst

 

I am your stalker

Flowering your world with my prose

Phonetically espousing my mask of love

I have such passion and ardor

Behind this mask of words

 

Live your life and pay no heed

To the man behind the curtain

As he weaves his words

And creates the next mask

To distract anyone from ever seeing

 

I wear this mask of words cleverly knit

And no one really knows me

It makes me alone and very afraid

And yet, here I am, creating another mask

 

This mask wears your face

These eyes see your world

These lips speak your words

This heart feels yours beating

For this one brief intense moment

We are one and the same

 

For this one moment

I feel the cold metal of the bar

I feel the wind in my face

I feel the roar of the wheels on the track

I feel that inescapable pull

Of Earth’s tender tether

 

And then I know

For this one moment

This one short powerful moment

As we share your world

We share my pain

 

And I am not so alone

For a moment

 

© Ron Simpson, Jr.

November 25, 2008