Am I Just A Russian Doll?

By Peter Ellis

You know I’ve lost count 

Of the masks I created

Built them ‌before I realised 

What they were for

I did what I was told

I built them to be perfect

After all:

Boys don’t cry; boys like girls

Don’t speak out of turn

You’re too loud

You’re too smart to pursue art

But I liked boys too

And I always answered back

I didn’t want to shut up

And not create for myself

I got used to fixing the masks

Because it’s always

“Be yourself,”

Until it’s inconvenient

Now I see

I was tightening their screws

Until I could taste the rust

So I started peeling them off

Finding everything I’d buried

Of my true self

Now I’m raw

All the masks are gone

I’m a Russian Doll 

Made of flesh

Every day is Halloween

And I’m the hideous monster

But now I’m dancing in the ashes

Of all the masks I’d made,

Because I’ve deserved the love I want

All along

And I feel free

To be me, for the first time, again

By Peter Ellis