surrender is not peace [ Sarah Senft ]

we sit across from one another
feet planted, gaze locked
his eyes, my favourite part, always kind, still
today, something else
my gaze drifts slightly to the left
to the grey wall behind him
his gaze razor-sharp and direct
on me
battle lines drawn
he has had enough
he refuses to accept 
the mask between us
he asks for the real me
who is that
he questions my integrity
not because he doesn’t know it’s there but because I don’t
a war rages inside
the choice is simple
surrender
to what
to love
to trust
to be
i offer him some
a tidbit of how I really feel
not everything
not yet
not enough 
he is not fooled
he wants more
the cracks
the scars beneath
i can’t keep performing
i am bone tired
no more tricks or lies
surrender
surrender is not peace
not yet
healing? 
maybe
trust him?
i take off the mask
scars revealed
he doesn’t look away

Sarah is a writer from Cork, Ireland, now living in Vancouver. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Maudlin House, Bending Genres, Excision, Feel Lit Magazine, Interrobang Lit, The Martello Journal, and elsewhere.