Mask Cracks

Paint smeared half off my face,

a smile cracked like weathered wood.

The crowd fades to empty benches,

where no one sees the truth I stood.

Lights blink, then dim inside,

words practiced now fall thin,

between the skin I wear in crowds

and the one I hide within.

Performance shivers loose,

a veil torn, not quite whole,

a glimpse of the shadow

where I lose control.