Who else puts on a mask, just to face the day?
I was doing my make-up today and suddenly realised what a strange ritual this is.
Shading in an acceptable face.
Drawing on a pair of watchful eyes.
Crayoning on a smile.
A face to show to no-one but my own four walls. And my family.
Do they see me (ME – the real ‘me’) through the mask?
A woman smiling as she chops the carrots or sorts through washing.
Today I didn’t want to wear the mask. I wanted to cry at the mirror instead of attempt to change its reflection.
To rage against age and pain and loss.
But here I am.
Eyes drawn on. Smile sketched in.
Facing the world.