masks

i picked a face out of a box today. a shiny silver face with a mean growl. it had a deadly sneer with blood red stitching and a place to shout out the words i would normally keep hidden inside for fear of losing my place in line.

i chose it for it's rough exterior. to mask my malleable features. so often my eyes turn to puddles, my lips quake and quiver with weak whispers. my face a flimsy sheet bending in the breeze. i hoped the strength i felt in the fabric would transfer onto this fragile facade, fuse it with a ferocity. an iron-on of iron will.

i surrendered myself to the magic sheath and found that i fit it comfortably. the mask shivered once then surged with a remarkable potency. i could feel my teeth and jaw bones vibrate and hum to its electricity. and when i opened my mouth my voice bellowed monstrously, as if magnified by invisible megaphone.

and from my slight frame a roar and this convincing truth: no one can hurt me now!

i picked a face out of a box today. almost out of a necessity unrealized. i chose a new face to present to the world, to focus on in mirror reflections. shining silver and blood red grin. i changed my face and it changed my perspective.