Skin Deep
You ever think about your past?
I know, it’s a silly question. After all, most people do.
Yet somehow, I feel like no one speaks about what is on their heart, don’t you?
Why I do hear an echoed silence, instead of what people really want to say?
All these smiling faces I see
Are fake.
Another, “hello” or “how’s the weather? What is it like to live overseas?”
These superficial conversations to know everything
But me.
We speak about our jobs, our education, and all the things we hate.
We often times become silent when the truth is at stake.
We blame our addictions on failed relationships.
We blame our stupidity on our youth.
More often than not we ignore everything that is true.
We keep friendships on the surface
We risk our lives for silly things like drugs.
Yet, we are terrified to risk our lives for real things like love.
Is it not strange that we need people; yet, we push them to the side?
Why do we feel a constant need to hide?
I feel like we are playing chess as if life is just game.
Was Shakespeare really that far off when he said: “Life is a stage?”
Is that all there is?
Are we really only skin deep?
It’s funny because I always thought there was more to me.
More than just a name plagued with side effects from my past.
More than just a happy smile only visible with a mask.
What is the point of life if we remain solely skin deep?
What am I truly protecting if I forget even me?
Shouldn’t we be more honest with ourselves
As well as those who we pass?
Or will we remain silent
Heads bowed
As we continue to wear our mask.