Perfection is deception.

I put on my make up, hiding my flaws,
perfection is deception, I know this of course.

For beauty comes from deep within
and camouflage can't mask my thoughts.

I paint a smile upon my lips, draw attention to my eyes,
but no amount of make up can hide what I feel inside.

I fill the cracks with plaster to hide the signs of age
pretend I'm indestructible when really I'm afraid.

I paint a perfect picture, for all the world to see,
but behind this perfect portrait, there is only me.

I can't see my inner beauty, it hides away from me,
even my foundations, cease to comfort me.

I hide behind my make up, as walls come crashing down,
accept defeat, acceptance, that love was never found.<

Perhaps I was too shallow, expected way too much,
perhaps my inner beauty was tinged with rust, mistrust.