They mock us and laugh at us because we are sheep who wear the mask.
We slumber and sleep as we move through our day.
This mask hides the face and conforms to the chaos.
It is, they say, our new normal.
The mask has always been my normal.
The mask of contrition, the mask of submission, the mask of bowing low to all who want to take from me.
This mask is the mask of my youth, the mask of survival.
My mask is suffocating me.
Like their mask it covers my countenance and muffles my voice and hides my expressions.
Like their mask it labors my breath.
Unlike their mask, it is freely worn yet I cannot see how to take it off.
Unlike their mask, it cannot be grasped.
There is a man behind the mask.
A strong man who has strong convictions and who knows the answers.
There is a man behind the mask.
A good man who knows what he wants and who will no longer apologize for it.
Yet, the mask clings through its many attachments.
Attachments to Mom, attachments to Dad.
Attachments to surrendering any glimmer of self.
Attachments to submitting to the will of the ones who formed it.
I hate my mask.
I reject my mask.
God help me to remove my mask.
Amen.
C.M.
5/21/20
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