None of them are real to me.

Nothing is as it seems...

I can’t see past their painted faces.

Why do they throw sugar on me

How do they think I might believe

I can’t see past these people...

Who are they to me?

But painted faces...

When they show me the truth

It’s all so very ugly

Visions of them stabbing me with all their hate.

Taking pieces of me that will never return.

Killing me with sweet painted smiles on their faces

Everyone plays to be so damned pretty

I’m sick of hearing painted truths

I lothe this stage, the scenery

I hate all of the painted faces

Why can’t I see underneath?

I hate this whole everything

All of the lies in my story...

I hate that they make me believe

They expect great things

Who are they to tell me how to be

I want to be free

I cant go on with all of this paint

I need to breathe

I’m running far away

I will wear no painted face

I will be free of my mask

I’m going to let everyone know

All of the ugliness and beauty

They can love me

Or let me be