Faux (a pared-down version of an oldie)

Is it better to be ignored for who I’m not
than to be rejected for who I am?

So many times–paralyzed
anchored in leaden fear.

“Me” dragged beneath the surface of honesty
Smothered, choked, tired.

Fearing to repulse. Hiding personality.
Under a mask of placidity. I bore myself.

A mat-finished mask that some mistake for maturity.
No-one can reject Me, if they don’t see Me.

Flikr: dixieroadrash

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