the rest is silence

 

"So pleased to meet you", says my mouth.
Its corners lift.
You never stood a chance;
I pulled a cold, grey mask over your head.

I see it now, you're judging me,
like they all do,
and I don't stand a chance.
Your face rejects the heart of who I am.

I can not stand, I'll hide myself
from that hard mask
which wrecked our only chance.
My surface act limps on; the rest is silence.

 

(© 1996-2008 Maria L. Grist)

 

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