Sculpters' shards

Why do you try so hard?

to make a difference in a world

you are living,

standing,

breathing.

Why do you try so hard each and every day?

And why do you write so much?

It's not going to change anything.

It's not gonna make the scratches on the lens clearer,

Why do you sit at your desk?

Drawing away,

typing away,

writingaway,

with your fountain pen of nerdiness,

why do you try

to the point of tears

to the point of breaking?

To you be a different person,

every time we meet?

Do you know when to stop?

Why

I don't know is the responds you give,

a blank stare

But what you really wanna say:

why don't you?

To push yourself harder?

to motivate yourself more?

Maybe then your grades would be better.

Maybe then you would be more cohesive

Rather than an abstract piece that was never intended to make sense

But then again—

They have a point

I don't know when to stop.

I never have.

bring myself to tears

to frustration

to be better,

To do better,

to be brighter,

to be smarter,

to not seem illiterate—

if I just forget one of the most simplistic words

in front of people.

So then they won't make fun of me.

So then they won't see a shattered mask behind the one

I try so hard sculpt to perfection.

so then they don't see

my vulnerable side.

yet my poetry does,

my art does,

I just…

it's better to hide behind a mask

that isn't my own.

So then I won't be hurt again.

So then you won't be disappointed

again.

And if you are—

I'm sorry

I will pick the shards up

Letting them cut the palms

Of this vessel

I will try,

and try,

again,

and again,

to make the perfect mask

for you,

for everyone,

For anyone one I see

For myself.