Mask

The eyes staring back at me are not my own. They can't be my own. They are sparkling, shining with a happiness I haven't felt in years. I look away from the mirror, letting my mask of happiness fall for a moment, but within seconds I pull my lips into their typical half-smile, forcing a sparkle into eyes that are clouded and bleak. This is the person I let the world see. The person who doesn't exist. My cheeks ache from the false smile and my heart breaks a little more deep inside my chest, but I don't let the mask fall. Truth is, behind it, I have no idea who I have become.