Her mask. Her wall against the world.
Her lips smeared with pink, and light brown hair curled.
They called her a slut; they called her a whore.
Even before she walked out the door.
She hid in the bathroom, her mascara smeared.
No one would care if she just disappeared.
Her mask washed away. Her wall crumbled apart.
With her pills and her makeup, she'd finally depart.
They called her so beautiful; they said she's too young.
Not a single tear shed as her picture they hung.
They packed up her stuff, and it was just as she feared,
No one had cared as she just disappeared.
