Hand Me My Mask
Our eyes meet from across the room.
My heart speeds up,
my insides are on fire.
I tell myself he is looking at the girl behind me.
I tell myself no one can love me,
no one wants me.
I turn my head,
ashamed of the feelings
that make me want to announce my love to someone I barely know.
You would think after six years you would know a person inside out.
And you probably would,
for most people.
But he's special,
he's not like others.
He wears a mask to hide his feelings.
He believes that no one can harm him if he doesn't let people close to him.
I think that I am the only one who has got the closest to him.
Physically and mentally.
But it's not enough.
His eyes hide a gut wrenching pain,
they plead for help,
they plead for comfort.
I wish I could be the one to comfort him.
But I think he will move on soon,
and past promises will fly out the window with his departure.
When he does leave me,
my heart will suffer like never before,
and I will put on his mask.
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