I sit, painting the mask
I'll put on in the morning

as it dries, I set it aside, to sit
with the rest of them.

Some are well worn, a comfortable fit
some pinch, some chafe
but no less loved.

Some are built from the ground up
that are somehow
the most comfortable to slip into.

Some smile.
Some frown.
Some look on the edge of tears.

But they are all real,
as painful as they sometimes are,

because there just comes a time
when it's time to put them on.