When i walk down the halls i see smiles and waves. Everyone knows me or at least they think they do. I am not a serial killer or a prostitute but i do lead a secret life. My mask shows my loved personality; upbeat, happy,calm and cheery. My mask loves all of her friends and they all love her. The only time that the mask comes off is when i cry. My eyes pour this salty liquid and my mask retreats and my real self shows. I walk down the halls proudly thinking about how many of my friends will come to my funeral. The mask is my wall that i hide behind to get away from the world.
No one knows what i look like because i am just a masked crusader. Tears are my medicine because it unleashes my inner spirit of ferocity and sadness. A mix of colours that make an unwanted tint. I am the friend that everyone likes but who do i like. My best friend is a lesbian and i am the only who knows. My other best friend is suicidal and is abused at home, both physically and emotionally. Why does happiness always have to override sadness. I am comfortable being uncomfortable. My mask tells people im okay even though my mother doesnt think im good enough. My mother emotionally abuses me. What is there to be happy about when there is nothing to be happy about?