Poetry Prompt #2

I believe the foundation of human connection is vulnerability. Yet, at a young age, we learn to hide behind masks. The lesson can start as young as four years old, and start with smiling for a picture you don't feel so happy to be taking. We grow up telling people we are fine when we aren't. If someone asks you how you are doing, rarely do we pause to evaluate our feelings and give an honest response.

This Wednesday I want to talk about the masks that we wear and even why we might wear them. It's not always easy to live in your truth, but it is always worth it. Without honesty and vulnerability, no one will ever get the chance to really know us, and if the people in your life don't know you then you're not giving them an opportunity to love you and all that you are. It's ok to not always be ok so let's write about it.

Remember: These prompts are just starting blocks; you have the freedom to go wherever your “pen” takes you.

Please: If you want to respond to this prompt on your other social media accounts use the hashtag #RelentlessPoetry & #WritersNeedReaders so I can help highlight your work.

Here is my poem about the mask I wear:

I smile a lot but mean it rarely

A toothy smile like I'm deranged

Only ask me once “How are you”

My answer won't ever change

I'll hold your hand if I don't love you

Better to lie than lie in bed alone.

My heart's been crushed so much I'm numb

A tear will never again touch my cheekbone

Or at least you'll never see it.

I'll lock it up and throw it away

Because bisexuality isn't accepted

They only see straight or gay


R.K. Russell

(Leave your poems in the comments below)


2 thoughts on “Poetry Prompt #2

  1. Masks
    I know them well. I’m Autistic. I mask a lot.
    Sexuality. I know that well too. I’m ace. There was a lot of self-reflection.
    Gender. I’m agender. Being fine when people get my pronouns wrong is another mask.
    Disability. I’m always in pain. It’s unlikely you’d be able to tell from looking at me.
    My entire life is masks.

    Here’s the thing.
    We’re from different countries.
    We’re from different backgrounds.
    We have different skin colours, different genders, WILDLY different athletic abilities.

    But you are ours, and I will fight for you.

    (This isn’t part of the poem but my pronouns are they/them)

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