The makeup sits like armor on the skin,
A mask to hide the rot that grows within.
The world applauds the symmetry and grace,
But never looks behind the painted face.
A mask to hide the rot that grows within.
The world applauds the symmetry and grace,
But never looks behind the painted face.
You shave away the edges of your soul,
To fit a mold that never keeps you whole.
And every compliment feels like a lie—
A heavy debt that pretty cannot buy.
To fit a mold that never keeps you whole.
And every compliment feels like a lie—
A heavy debt that pretty cannot buy.
You bleed yourself to keep the colors bright,
And starve the dark to stay inside the light.
But in the end, the glass is always cold;
A beautiful container, bought and sold,
Left empty on a shelf, untouched and gray,
As everything you were is washed away.
And starve the dark to stay inside the light.
But in the end, the glass is always cold;
A beautiful container, bought and sold,
Left empty on a shelf, untouched and gray,
As everything you were is washed away.
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