by Anna Martinez
I surrender to lesser days.
Trying to save face
I wear a mask
Paint every line
Perfectly in each crevice
Caress the gentle expressions
Until they resemble my own.
I carve empty spaces
With careful precision
So I can fill the mold
For the person I want to be
Forgetting
The person I am.
My soul empty,
The masses appeased.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Anna is a writer living in Las Vegas, Nevada. She writes about trauma, loss, healing, and battling with mental health challenges.
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