Someone dreamed me up,
Crafted me with a face of stars,
A body to belong,
Though I never quite belonged here.

The mask was fit bit by bit.
When the voices were too loud,
In slipped the stone.
When I laughed instead of cried,
The stoic mouth formed.

When the mask was complete,
Not a ***** could be seen.
It was smooth,
Made of stone and glass.
Forged in fire and set in ice.

Now this mask holds,
Though there are fault lines.
There the dark and stars reside.
It’s cold in this place,
Though I don’t mind.

I imagine the time,
When the mask breaks
And those who wait,
Embrace what’s been hidden beneath.
It’ll be a day when the dreamer wakes me.