Safe-haven,
home...
where are these things for me?
who am I, but your toy?
Fate, a fickle friend
indeed.
home,
Safe Haven...
a minor technicality,
and you're out of the game.
Screaming for help,
when there's none to see
but me.
Who am I, but your toy?
Your friend
(till the end)?
Why should I help you?
What are you to me
(but a toy)?
Don't scream my name,
if you don't know me.
safe-haven,
home..
What are these things to me?

Wandering, alone, confused as to which way to turn.
A stranger's love that gives you chills, but you know not why.
Flames within a heart that can exhilerate, strengthen or burn.
Or a gentle kiss that gives you cold chills and also wings to fly.
Maybe a heart-felt attraction that appears out of the blue,
or a silence from someone that comforts and strengthens you.
What are these things that strike out fancy, our dreams, our thoughts?
None of these I see can be purchased, chained or caught.
There's something else that mystifies the strongest mind;
the building or losing of heart-bonds along with passing time.
In these last years you'll spend together, avoid heartache, 
pain and strife.
and above all, I hope you have the time of your life!

I am not really myself.
I am someone else.
When others see me to talk to me
THey are talking to a stranger.
Not me.
I am kept hidden away,
Safe from discovery or attack.
Behind the cover of me masks.
Each day.
Sometimes knowingly, sometimes not.
As I sift through my closet,
Choosing which clothes to wear,
I also search my mental mask menagerie,
Carefully selecting the image I want to project.

Like an actor,
I have learned to portray many roles,
Many faces,
Many moods.
And I use a different mask for each.
Each mask represents something about me,
The me I would like to be.
I put on a mask of happiness because
I sincerely want to be happy,
I wear the the socialite mask because
I want friends to have fun with,
The self-sufficiency mask because
I truly want to take charge of my life.
I know these goals are worthwhile.
And I view the masks as a way
To help me reach those goals
By putting my best foot forward.

Something peculiar happens, however,
As I continue wearing these masks.
They begin to feel too comfortable.
Natural.
Necessary.
I can go for weeks without removing them.
As if they were extended-wear contact lenses
That only require an occasional cleaning.
As I get used to my masks, 
I begin to believe they might really be me
Rather than merely a facade.
Yes meanwhile, 
My true self lies dormant within me.
Isolated.
Forgotten.

So rather than bringing me closer to my goals,
The masks alienate me from them. 
Like a brick wall, the masks confine me.
Isolate me.
Hide me from other people.
And long before I realize
I am not what my mask says I am,
but exactly the opposite.
When I dawn the mask conformity,
identifying me with a certain group
I'm really broadcasting my own lack of identity,
my own uncertainty of who I am.
Or when I wear the mask of confidence, 
refusing to admit weakness, mistakes, or hurt, 
Im telegraphing my own insecrity.

I have other masks that I maintain
for use at the proper time:
The mask of superiority
To stare down the inferior feelings
I detect in others 
And in myself;
The mask of appearence
To enhance my attractiveness to others
So I'll forget how ugly I think I am;
The clown or the rowdy mask
To gain the attention I can't obtain otherwise;
The "totally together" mask
To hide all my rough edges;
The mask of love
To disguise an overly selfish relationship;
Even the mask of spirituality
To silence all questions of my status before
God.

What should I do with all these masks?
I realize they have insulted me
Not only from other people.
But also from myself.
If indeed I want to be myself
Rather than someone else,
I must remove the masks,
Peel them off.
Cut them awaylike a plaster cast.
Some of the worthless masks I will trample to pieces.
Others I will display on the bedroom wall
To remind me of the person I'd like to be,
But am not yet.

I can openly walk toward the goals
Those good masks represent,
Because being real doesn't mean giving up
On areas I need to change.
Nor does it mean I'm satisfied
With every thing about myself.
It simply means accepting the way I am now,
And honestly admitting
I'm still working on my problems.

Ultimately, I won't need masks;
Instead,
I'll show others the living person behind them:
Not a stranger, but
A special, unique,
Authentic human being-
Someone who's not perfect, but who wants to grow.
Only when I open myself open myself to other people
Will I see myself clearly.
And only when I take off the masks
Will I truly be free.