My Mask

Sometimes I wish,
That I was someone else.
But really that person,
Is locked inside of myself.
To let her show,
To let everyone see;
To let her glow,
It shall set me free.
When I see my reflection,
I know it's not me.
I don't show my true compexion,
Nor who I could be.
Sometimes my mask slips,
And the real me peaks out.
The me with dark lips,
The me full of doubt.
Then I shut her away,
I put back on my mask.
And inside she shall stay,
While the outside does the task.
The task of pretending,
That I can't get hurt.
The task neverending,
That says I hate skirts.
Yet sometimes I sigh,
And let me show through.
They think it's a lie,
Something I wouldn't do.
They see my dark dresses,
My dark makeup too.
Then each of them stresses,
"It's simply not you!"
I'm tired now of my mask,
And of all of my lies.
I have shattered my mask,
Despite surprised cries.
So now the me that is here,
Is who I really am.
And if you shed a tear,
I won't give a damn.
For the me that you loved,
Wasn't really me.
It was the me I was shoved,
And forced to be.
So look at my clothes,
And at the makeup you see.
Take a look at the rose,
Finally see me.