50 Thousand Masks

A little girl so fragile and vulnerable wanders shyly,
she looks around with innocence and smiles at the world;
her pale pretty hands and red ringlets,
her beady hazel eyes scan her surrounding with curiosity.
But curiosity killed the cat, and this cat is opening the door to pain;
she is too kind, too generous, too careless,
she is basically handing them the knife and facing her back to them,
but she does not see it, her pretty eyes are blinded.

Time passes and she is finally hit in the face with reality;
no one cares for her friendship, no one really likes her,
she stands in the centre of her dark world, clueless,
what did she do so wrong? Was it something she said?
A crystal tear rolls down her cheek and smashed upon the floor,
her eyes have been drained of their early born sparkle,
her ringlets have flattened and turned a dry brown;
she is no longer the innocent, kind child that she was in the beginning.

She now has two thousand masks in her safety-net collection:
"Which mask shall I wear today?";
no one can keep up with her for she is constantly changing herself,
constantly rotating the cycle of her behavior and spirit.
She blames herself for all that has happened in her life,
she sharpened every knife that was stabbed into her back,
if only she wasn't so kind and bright, maybe leeches wouldn't be attracted,
she is drying out the pure rose inside of her as she changes her attire out of 50,000 masks each day.

Now becoming a mature young lady; her eyes weary and alert,
she knows no boundaries when it comes to protecting herself,
she knows what she wants and won't let herself get hurt in the process,
the wings of a better tomorrow make her smile behind her mask; she steps forward.
I approach the unguarded grave in which I buried my past;
I glare down at the dead grassy area as memories viciously stroke the regrown rose inside of me,
the wind toys with my red, once again curly locks of hair as I fight the tears behind my beady hazel eyes;
underneath the dead grassy area lays the biggest mistakes of my life; my 50,000 masks.

© Gurdy x (GoddessOfWings)