Shelter. What I've found
Tangled in the offset timing of truth
Its blunt inconvenience plain in view.
Peace, when at last found,
Nothing like emptiness -
But pure and whole in silence.

Floating within all this chaos
I plant myself on an island sanctuary -
Moments of solace permeate my skin,
My scars pale and fade in tingling sensations.
Faith gropes now for validation; once spoiled sour
Stifled under the incredulous reprimand of skepticism
And now untethered on an islet of refuge.
Trust runs free.

Paint on a genuine smile, rehearsed
Drilled...
Day to day, for days on end
'Til every day is déjà vu
And facial contortions are no longer
An expression of the inner soul
But a plastered-on artistic endeavor
Summoned at will.

In solitude the actor peals off his make-up

And stares in the mirror at Cold, Harsh Reality

Not “genuine” at all

And he realizes
He has become accustomed to his Costume.