I can be patient
and hopeful and kind.
That’s a deviance,
I’m only a bit ashamed to say.

I can be disciplined
and focused and
when I am, I can feel
the mask gripping my face.

I can be happy.
I can be a role model.
I can impress others
with my calm demeanor; hell,

any half-assed actor can.
When you’re not looking,
though?  That’s when I do
my best work — that’s when I am

genuine volcano,
honest torpedo,
purely the vicious slothful dog
I feel most free to be.

I am telling you this
so you’ll run away or strike me.
When you hate me, you can hate
the real me and not that character

I barely feel most of the time.
That logician, that schoolboy,
that monster lie.  That costume
everyone refuses to admit

they are also wearing.