I take off my mask
and touch the wounds in my soul.
Light shines through the holes.
Pain now transparent,
I see varied shades of red.
Bleeding is widespread.
Blood pools on the floor.
I slip and fall to my knees.
Forgive me, I plead.
People I’ve broken
gather around and mock me.
They have no pity.
They fuse mask to skin.
There’s no escaping my pain.
It’s now trapped within.
Enter to win a FREE Jason polymer sculpture by participating in one of the events below!!!
In the Comments Section, write a Micro-poem or Micro-Story using the prompt word “mask”
Complete this scenario with a poem or story:
A masked maniac raises a rusted machete—the carnivorous edge eclipses the silver cratered world—while two campers squirm inside a sleeping bag.
…What happens next? Well…that’s up to you!
Fabulous Blog Event Writers
1. Oh, the pain behind the mask, I think we all wear one at some point of time. ivors20
2. I vote that the machete-wielding masked maniac drops his weapon and joins the campers for some good ole summer squirmin’. oglach
3. We want to be liked and impress so a mask is worn.. which only exhausts us in the end.. Christy B
4. Best not to take off that mask…keep the squiggling, squirming, screeching monster hidden behind a sweet plastic smile, letting it out through one’s fingers to play on paper and canvas only, no sharp instruments within its reach. Safer for everyone that way. MC Clark