A mask.
It doesn’t cover
Completely
But as a façade
Does nicely.
I can be conflicted—
Or heroic,
And while It’s a diversion
For you,
It’s real for me.
I don’t quite understand
Passion, however
The frenetic
Rites
Of a mystery cult
And how to stand
Outside myself
In a Rave
Gulping Ecstasy.
No, I do much better
As a melancholy Dane
Or Dorian
Perpetually
Scrying his mirror
Vainly trying
To hide the past.
But never
Truly seizing the day...
Merely grasping
At shadows
With outstretched hands
Robotic
As an undead
Rising from his grave.