The perfect facade.

My cover up hides the true wants and desires.

I know that people look up to me, but I look down on them.

How can they not see?

This is not really me.

It's all a facade and they are just too blind to see.

I'm all A's and cautious driving

When on the inside, I want to break loose and make a run for it.

They laugh it off and think that it's a joke.

They could never believe that I really smoke.

That I'm not your perfect little girl, folks.

But then there's you.

Why do I do this to myself?

I start to let you in on the true me, the bad me.

You think it's just a lie.

You don't believe that I would actually cry.

Maybe all these tears aren't even worth all the times I tried.

Its bullshit, its crap.

How the hell can you not see?

I'm laying the hints down for you like Blue's Clues.

All the while, knowing I'm not the girl you'd ever choose.

I tell you I drink and you're the one that runs away from the booze.

I guess that make me the idiot, the dumb-ass, the dip-shit.

But no worries, because the facade is still up.

A perfectly painted picture.

But my pain won't ever be healed by your 'good girl' tincture.

I guess there are just some parts of life you have to stricture.