The Love Was Never For The Mask

The morning light hits the mask you wear, and for a moment, it looks real. Someone speaks your name with tenderness, and your stomach turns because you know the truth they don't: you are a fraud.

You are waiting for the moment the affection stops, the moment they see the hollow space behind your eyes and walk away. But listen — before you ever learned to perform, before you ever built this shield, there was a self inside you that was already known.

The kingdom is not something you earn by being perfect; it is already inside you, waiting to be recognized. What you think is a disguise is just the dust of the road, and the light sees through it to the root beneath.

You do not have to maintain the illusion to be held. The love you fear losing was never given to the mask anyway — it was given to you.