Masquerade Poem by Thea Pound

I wear a face, when I step outside.
A mask. Persona. I am not myself.
I seem calm; nothing touches me.
The barrier waivers. The mask smiles on.
Then I retreat, back to my world,
The outside remains where it belongs,
And I cast off the facade. Relax. Breathe.
Here is my asylum; nothing touches me.
My fears reign, in safety. My heart,
Is free to rage and burn, hidden.
Here I am free to crumble,
Not caged by expectations.
Shaking, trembling, quaking. Yearning,
I can finally confront the real Me.