The Mask

I take it off before I go to bed,

and bury my face in the pillow,

lest I scare my sleep away.

In come flooding all those dreams,

or are they memories, indeed?

Of a time when my smile was fleshy,

not wooden.

I jerk up, wide awake.

Groaning inside, I hug the sheets,

but the dreams are gone.

If I could make breakfast with the lights off,

I would.

Avoid the mirror as I step into the tub.

Scrub, scrub, scrub,

Rid myself of any grub, imaginary or not.

The clothes come on easily, as do the shoes.

I've learned to knot my tie without looking too.

But before stepping out of these four padded walls,

I must face off the mirror, gulp down and be bold.

It takes but a moment to put it on,

dreadful sight begone!

Don't let anyone know...