Bound to a Mask
I used to be unable to understand the feeling of wearing a mask.
The only thing I was able to do was appreciate the dark beauty of its message.
Now that I wear the same cracked mask, I understand each heavy, dark word.
It is not a typical mask that you strap onto your face voluntarily to hide from others..
This mask is your own face, stitched together to prevent it from returning to normal.
It is worn out of survival, not to fool others for the sake of mystery, or personality.
Those who wear the same mask are the only ones who have the ability to notice it.
Only a glance can be shared between the two before they refocus on surviving.