Unshackling Disguises

The first disguises are subtle, almost kind,
routines that lull the mind into agreement,
thoughts repeated until they harden into truth.

We name vigilance wisdom,
name compliance peace,
and convince the heart that shrinking

is the same as being safe.
Even hope learns restraint here,
measured, muted, afraid of alarming the silence
we’ve mistaken for balance.

Deeper still, the psyche tightens its grip.
Control calls itself strength,
discipline sharpens into quiet tyranny,
and fear learns to speak with a steady, reasonable voice.

We manage, we endure, we calculate,
riding currents of expectation,
archiving desire for later,
pulling tomorrow closer
while life slips through today.

Beneath it all, the undertow hums:
Do not let go.

Eventually, the disguises grow heavy,
their weight impossible to ignore.
Defiance parades as courage,
rigidity pretends to be resolve.

We circle the same shore,
claiming progress while dragging our jetsam,
old wounds, old vows, old masks,
until exhaustion cracks the armor.

And in that fracture, something shifts.
The tide pauses.
The grip loosens.

Then…

Slowly, deliberately,
the disguises are stripped away.
Fear uncouples from thought.
Control releases its illusion of mastery.
Time softens its demands.

One by one, the masks fall silent,
and heart and mind stand exposed,
naked, unguarded, breathing.
No performance. No pretense.
Only resonance,
surging freely at last,
unshackled,
learning how to ride the crest without disguise.