Today, my mask is happy. The plastered-on grin only falters when I stop to think. My smile drops when I glance at windows. Life is going all around me, and I am a apathetic face in the crowd.

This is what I figure. When I put on a happy face, the feeling follows. And it does for a while. I am blanketed with warmth and sunshine as I step into the light. But as the shadows fall, I’m back to the person I was, empty and wanting.

This mask is thin, and imperfect. The eyes are holes and mine peek out of them, staring into far off spaces.

As i see clearer still the mask slips off, revealing the broken, wasted shell that I have become.

The mirror is my foe, as i face the truth. It shatters as I hit it, not caring for that which I see.

Lying down tired with the shards of glass, I pick up the mask and put on a happy face.