We Are Folds and Reveals

I have something, a little thing
hidden on my person, everyone else
is likewise; beauty behind a veil,
a weapon holstered, blue blood
that reddens upon touching air.
We care for that hidden thing,
careful as we wash its spikes, its sharp
revelation smarts on our hands,
we can never be calloused enough
to ignore it but we grimace to a grin.
The world reflects the same stoic portrait back,
those that don't are called mad - keep smiling.