(Lies sits on the surface)
There is a face I wear. I don’t like it. This face is a personality I don’t like. This face can’t find it’s own voice, instead echo what it has heard. This face is a ghost, a pale reflection of it’s influences, and rights.

(Truth hid her eyes)
Underneath my face, is a mind. My mind. My mind, my very soul, without the addition of faked opinions over trivialities and over-used lies. Underneath the face is the real me. With different interests than what they expected.

(Why Pain lives inside me)
When I let someone glimpse into my mind and see the real person that I am, inevitably, I find that they are repulsed by what they see. So I don’t show them. I keep my heart with me, hidden away. People thak they know me

(Rhyme with my inner voice)
I should take the blame. I should not blame the face. The fault is my own. I wear this face everyday. I wear this face I hate because I fear what might happen when people see what is underneath.

(I have Reason)
I am afraid to show my mind. I don’t want them to touch my heart. So I’ll give them a face. A mere shadow of myself.

(A sick comfort)
Because. They liked my face better anyways.