RoseDoomThorne

I have this hallway no one else can enter. It could be a corridor, or walk-in closet, but I perfer to think of it as a hallway. It contains all my masks, some used more than others. There are ones for perfessionalism, formal events, to ones for friends and acting. There is even ones for complete strangers. There is happiness, sadness, pain. There is one for complete annonimity, it is often repaired, and contains no eyes, nose, nor any distinguising marks. These are my masterpeices. My favourite is not one of my works though. It is one I inherited, and is the one I use for solitude, lonelyness, and truth. It is made of flesh and bone, not supe