*Face (Not really a poem...)

I am a person without a face.
A black hole exposed to the world.
Who I am is stuffed inside.
What I feel.
What I think.
What I know and believe
Is all found in my faceless head.
Those who see me stare in awe.
Who and what is she?
Why is there no face to place our judgements upon?
In my shame, under scrutiny of the eyes I began to build.
Cheek bones, nose, mouth, eyes.
Muscles and flesh inter-twining to cover my open hole.
I have become unrecognizable to me, I have a face.
Just another person with a carefully crafted mask.
People who see me no longer cringe
For I am hidden deep within.
My tears never fall from public eyes.
My voice never screams from my tightly closed throat
For I am no longer myself.
Another person,
A me I don’t know nods in agreement as a flower inside the wind.
Who am I?
I am no longer me. I am changed for the worse.
I am my face.