Mannequin

My dear Mannequin
you have taken many forms
many of which I hate you for

The first disguise you wore was that of Fakery.
Hidden under layers of cosmetics, perhaps a front to hide
a secret shame, a feeling of worthlessness.
Shallow shells smothering a net of ignorance,
I dare wonder if removed, would there be anything underneath.

The next was a screen of Infidelity
A common mistake to expect a veracious coexistence.
Behind closed doors your true nature revealed itself.
Your metamorphosis was clear to me as you became no more than
a nymph indulging on a repeat of philandering.

Upon my journey through your personas
I come across the guise of Lust
For I found you fun at first, full of excitement and pleasure,
quickly your distaste of emotion reacted against my search for feelings.
This sin of impure desire had to be expunged.

Then there was the vizard of Fickleness
An inconsistent wavering of opinions to leave me addlepated.
My head span in circles following in your footsteps.
I should have turned away sooner,
as your capricious attributes tainted my own.

At this point my belief in you was lost,
I could not trust you anymore,
but against all odds odds you picked up a new veil.
A miracle birthed from a mistake

Oh so serene, unspoiled,
even curses from your mouth would be as beautiful as pearls.
Smiles beaming, eyes full of life, a voice gentle and soft.
I held you close and shared my warmth with yours,
but my scrupulous tenderness haggard your shields, it broke you down.
Withdrawing, cradling wounds, the puppeteer left the marionette
falling to the ground lifeless, cold,
once graceful movements are frozen still.

Joy rotted into a pool of quiescent apathy.
Fighting in desperation my mind tore itself apart in search for answers
but none came forward amongst the valley of silence and uncertainty.

Creation became Preservation
Preservation churned into Folly
Folly dulled to Defeat
your colours eventually ran,
your form finally lost shape.
Again your face was anonymous.
A blank canvas

but now I have acquired you a new mask,
one of familiarity.
I have not known this for long
but it feels safe to me.
Filled with inspiration, marvels,
excitement.

I must not rush you mannequin you are incomplete.
The dyes are not set, I must not touch you,
for it will smudge your immature features.
restrained I shall admire you.
Please keep your new identity.

Before I leave you dear Mannequin, I wish to ask...
When you are viewed by the other party,
do you wear my face?