Mother Mask

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.