Fakeme
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I have no armor against the fork-tongued and heart-piercing.
I’m not covered in a blanket of deceit best suited for comfort.
My face is not painted a pretty picture for the ease of outsiders.
Make believe is comforting,
Loving the sense of security traps you,
False pretense of the being you thought to be you,
Ugliness and jealousy clouds me,
The real me sees the opportunity as deal,
