We Wear the Mask
poem: Paul Laurence Dunbar "We Wear the Mask"

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes -
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

He would never understand these humans. These odd creatures with the eyes that lied. No, he hadn't grown up surrounded by them such as other people that shall go unmentioned. He was honest, never hid anything except for his love. Love was for the weak. He was not weak. He was strong.

"I hate you, woman." That was a lie. He was lying. Lying through his teeth. NO! I love you!

She smiled. "I know that."

But you're wrong! You're wrong, woman! I do love you! Can't you see I'm lying? Oh if his father could see him now. Simpering over a blasted woman. What were these voices that rang out through his head? He loved no one! Love was for the weak. The weak. Emotionless was the way to be.

"I hate you, too." That smile. That smile!

Don't hate me. You're lying, right? You love me as much as I love you. Right? Right? "Good." No. Not good. I love you. You love me. Stop smiling like that! No! He loved no one! No one...

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let the only see us, while
We wear the mask.

He could sense the tears rising in her eyes. Why are you listening to me? I'm lying! "Make me dinner, woman. I'm hungry."

She turned away. "Of course, Vegeta."

This voice in his head kept screaming at her. Stop it! Stop saying these things! What things? This was how it always was. He hated her. She hated him. NO! That's not true! Can't you see she loves you? Don't you know that you love her back? Just because he wanted to fuck her, didn't mean that he loved her. You don't want to fuck her, you want to love her. He shook his head and stepped forward. His hands cupped her breasts. Her soft moan only led him on. This wrong. Wrong!

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

"That hurts, Vegeta." She sniffled softly, wondering how she got into this mess.

See that, voice? He only wanted to fuck her. But you're wrong! This is wrong! He smiled down at her, evilly. "Quiet, woman."

"Of course, Vegeta." Inside she was screaming.

Can't you hear that? You're hurting her. If she wants to pretend let her, he didn't care. Look at her. No! He would not look at her. Look at her! No. He just wanted to fuck. No connection. Just pain and pleasure. LOOK AT HER! He looked at her, truly looked at her. Oh no. He rolled off of her and ran upstairs.

She watched him leave and felt shame. But she stood, shook off her pain, and pulled on her clothes. Then she finished dinner.

Oh God, what have I done? He sat on his bed and stared out of the window. Something went wrong down there. What have I done? He went back downstairs, looking as if nothing had happened, and sat down at the table. "Where's my meal?" I'll just pretend, too.

"Almost done, Vegeta." Her eyes didn't meet his.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. "I'm sorry." Her eyes met his finally. Surprise filled their depths. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

Oh but it does.

-fin-