My Mask

Every time I put this mask back on,
Its as though I am invisible,
Like the angels around me;
Transparent.

I hate,
Yet live for this mask.
It is my vary breath,
And the blood that flows through this torn heart,
Forever lost in my own tears.

I will always regret the way I placed it on my face,
For it changed the who I am now,
Yet I have lost all thought of taking it off,
And have never wished it replaced.

It burns at my face when I talk,
And sears my skin as I cry,
Yet it it is my strength,
As it blinds those around me from my corrupt face,
That was so brutally cut in your anger.