Wearily I rise as birds begin their morning song,
Thankful for the peace that seems to only come at dawn.
The weight of slumber is not so heavy
As the daily mask I wear.
My smile fixed like a rictus, but I edit it with care.
I tuck away my sorrow like strands of fallen hair.
My eyes, deep pools, never shed their tears.
The salty pearls are swallowed,
How bitter are those spheres!
Carefully arranged, it’s time to face the day.
So practiced, so artful, so perfectly assembled…
I rarely have to fill the cracks that form along the way.