I have a bad habit.
A bad habit of peeling things.
But my worst two?
Nail polish and masks.
But really they’re the same.
The thing you put on to hide your true nature
That sometimes flakes off.
I have a problem with peeling it off.
And the wild grin across my face only grows wider as the pieces grow bigger.
And sometimes it’s good
With the great wide pieces of who I pretended to be fluttering about me.
And sometimes it’s bad when those I hardly know back away
With pieces of my façade caked up on their ever growing eyes.
But regardless I do it.
There is something about it
I cannot resist.