Redwood
Emerging Writer — King Middle School, Berkeley

Poetry

Masked


Samantha Lopatin

March/May 2022
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I don’t mean covid
I don’t mean sickness

I’m talking about my emotions

The ones that are masked

This is the way you see me:
I’m smiling
I’m happy
I’m laughing

What you don’t see is
I’m slipping on a mask
Every time I’m with
Friends or
Anyone really


Some people say
Nobody is perfect
But still expect perfection
Am I the only one
Who feels damaged
By the word “Perfect?”

I’m mad
I’m sad
I’m tired
Yeah
But I doubt you’ll ever notice . . .

I’m sitting right behind you
Laughing with the others
Right?
But don’t turn around
To look for me

You see my face drop
When I look away
But don’t take it personally
Maybe you can
Forget that you saw
My mask come off
In the first place

But you don’t forget
And you confront me

“Is something wrong?”

“No.”

Direct and cold
There is no room for questions as I walk away

I wish I didn’t push you away
But I can’t say it


When there’s a mask
People gain
Expectations
Ones you must meet
Sometimes they are impossible

I find myself
Craving, wishing, to “become a better person”
But I can’t do that
Without revealing
My real self to you
I can’t do that without
Removing my mask

But you don’t want to see
The real side of me
You like it simple
You like it to be straightforward

That’s why I keep my mask on
Happy
And
Smiling

Masked
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