Behind the screen I feel safe; no eyes are upon me. I can place a mask, one with a perpetual grin, in front of my words so that people think, oh, what a dear girl. So pretty. So young. With my hands on the keyboard my words don’t get caught behind my teeth, and my eyes don’t need to wander. My thoughts can race and slow, stutter and flow without embarrassment. A persona to wear, one without cheeks that blush and hands that grasp each other for comfort. I can take the time to be clever and thoughtful.  My responses are not timed with an elevated heartbeat, or cut short with a clumsy tongue.  I can seem to be what I’m not.


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