I put makeup on today to cover up my face.

But I know it’s not the real me, and now I wonder why I would do such a thing.

Maybe it’s me trying to blend in with everybody doing the same thing, covering up the truth of who they could be, cuz she doesn’t think she’s good enough to be the real me.

My peach pale skin, with blemishes from the zits I had when I was a kid.

The lines around my eyes that highlights the pain I’ve been in.

And the indents on my cheeks that make me look happy when I laugh about something.

Yeah, that’s the shit we don’t want ‘ya to see.

So we cover it up with makeup to hide our human being.