masks

an original. where’s the one who wears them?

Photo by Rach Teo on Unsplash

can i trust you with a secret?
i’ve told no one so consider this an honor,
for it is meant to be so,
given who you are to me.

i wear a mask.

what you and what the world has seen of me
is only what i have chosen to wear.
no one other than the person in my mirror
and the person i talk with all the time in the noise
of my mind
knows who i really am,
knows what i really look like.
i thought i needed to do this to survive
and i have survived up to now
and could keep on surviving if i hadn’t also come to realize
that even though i have survived,

i have not lived.

i thought i needed this mask 
to keep myself safe and free from hurt,
the hurt others may inflict.

(humans can be so cruel you see,
and they are)

that particular brand of hurt
leaves no scars that others can see
but i still feel them all
and i still have them on the inside,
but behind this mask you see,
to keep them hidden from you.

sometimes i forget the particular mask i’ve put on
and so there are times when i become the wrong person,
in the wrong moment. 
and so regret settles in
and i feel bad
and may even have to apologize on behalf
of that imposter.
but i wear a mask when doing that too.

(ironic that i cause that hurt to myself, myself)

which brings you and me 
to here:

i am tired now.
mask wearing wears you out like no other.
pretending to be someone else
in front of others
is a full time occupation,
overwhelming, 
requiring diligence and vigilance constant,
exhausting.

(if you doubt me just try to pay attention 
to everything all at once and for as long as you are awake
with no break,
not even for sleep)

such is the mask wearer’s life.

remembering the mask you wear for a particular person
can get mixed up with other masks
and other persons. 
when i forget is when they say
”that’s not like you” or
“that’s a part of you i haven’t seen before.”

(of course that would be true.
i’ve just forgotten the right mask for their seeing)

all this says a lot about authenticity.

i’ve come to understand a deep truth
behind mask wearing
which has brought me to this
accounting with you:

if i decide to remove my mask, 
how will others know i simply haven’t placed
another?
such too is the mask wearers life, and dilemma.

i’ve come to understand
the loss isn’t theirs. 
at some point, to live, one has to simply trust
and allow. so…enough.

may i take this mask off now?
i’m starting to confuse the mask
with the one i really am.

stay with me so that you will see
i’ll put no other on,
even though i’ll still want to. 

i’m about to introduce you to a person
you’ve never met,
and i hope you love him as much as i think
you have loved his mask.

(know that i am terrified, please)


and now that i am taking my mask off,
will you do the same 

with yours?

“Instead of trying to polish our mask until it becomes perfect, we can start looking for the one who’s wearing it.”

~ Santiago Santai Jiménez

Live, Laugh, and Love,

~ k

🙏🏼

Always and Ubuntu

Postscript:

i don’t believe war would exist
if we didn’t wear the masks we wear.

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