And They All Yell, "Unmask"

I wear this mask like it's my true face. Never taking it off, not even when I'm alone.
These lies have become my identity.
Even I believe them and their seductive call.
They bury me deeper, taking hold of my ankles and pulling me into the blackness of deceit,betrayal, but mostly apatheic outward emotions, or lack thereof.
I have become encased in this painted, plastic shell--never showing what's inside.
The innerworkings are neglected, decaying.
While only the outside is maintained to perfection.
So much, that no one questions what could be lurking underneath.
But all it will take it one crack in the plaster for the foul odor of this rotting core to raise a question, for the mania boiling beneath the surfce to boil over.
And what will you do then?
Try to break away the melted plasticand help the dying thing inside, or will you scurry away from the festering wreckage?
I think we both know the answer.
You're hiding behind this, too.