Masked

I knew the carousel wasn’t actually spinning, and I knew there wasn't actually someone dressed ever so neatly in a black suit, even though my eyes told me otherwise. I couldn’t see their face for they were wearing what looked like a bunny mask; sitting atop of one the horses peering down at me each time they came around. Those eyes were enduring, I wanted to peel off their mask and demand them to touch me, to kiss down my neck and pull my hair. Although these hallucinations were just the beginning of the loss of my sanity.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Lost of sanity protected by a mask. Many kinds of masks. Some masks can become permanent. I like the drive and energy of this poem. Need and want can lead to a madness. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote