2all it causes is my makeup to run
and the empty faces to close in
offering their arms
full of false sympathy
for they forget me.
everytime i hide behind my fears.
so i cry and the beauty drips onto my chin and disappears with a cool splash of water. then i must return
a composed young woman with such a bright future before her.
what if i want to be a party girl
or a slut?
who's to tell me i cannot whore around and have some fun?
what's to stop me from feeling good about it
when it's all f*cking said and done?
maybe this crown is not a halo.
maybe these wings don't want to be white...