I stood before the fire,
holding the mask
that once promised safety,
a face I learned to wear
to fit into the spaces
where I didn’t belong.
For years,
I sculpted it carefully,
each line, each smile,
a careful construction
of what others wanted to see.
But tonight,
the mask feels heavy—
its eyes too wide,
its mouth too hollow,
a stranger to my skin.
I let it fall into the flames,
and as it burns,
I feel the heat in my chest
like a spark waking up
from deep inside.
The air around me fills with smoke,
but it's the smoke of freedom—
no longer confined to a shape
I never chose.
There’s power in this surrender,
in being seen as I am—
rough edges,
cracked pieces,
the truth I’ve held too long in shadow.
I watch the mask curl and crack,
disintegrating into light,
and with every flicker,
my world becomes clearer,
brighter,
alive in a way I never knew it could be.
Some will turn away from the flame,
they won't understand
why I’ve burned what they once admired.
But I am no longer afraid
to let my light shine
through the gaps
where the mask once lay.
In the ashes,
I find my true face
and the world around me
blooms with a radiance
that is mine alone to hold.
