Bare faced;
The acne gives me personality.

Winding down to the swirls of cotton
That lye in the makeup remover;
Under the counters of all the eyeliners,
blushes, and glitters that hid my innocence.

God despises masks
that change his image.

We no longer look like God’s children;
concealed behind his disconcerting look

The look.

The look that every parent
who has learned it from God knows,
It’s the expression given when their child has failed.

I pick up a shadow brush,
filled with pigments and beauty,
and I get the look.

God doesn’t smile
when I pound cake it on
and I don’t care what he thinks.

Rebellion, rebellion, rebellion.

Children rebel,
and we have all been rebels
when we chose our masks over our own faces;
We are breaking the unwritten law;
We are breaking the unwritten law.

Nothing is better than your own bare face.