As the day passes,
my mask begins to fade.
Eyeshadow slowly fades
wearing away,
                slowly
until only a tint is left.

My lipstick rubs off
as I wipe my mouth
after lunch, a pinkish stain
taints the white paper.

Foundation, that peachy color
that covers all these,
imperfections,
transfers itself to everything
my hand as I itch a scratch
the paper as I lay my head to rest

My mascara,
that lengthens and defines
my thin lashes,
flakes off
leaving little pieces
under my eyes.

And by the time that I get home,
between the now and then,
That mask I wore
when I walked out the door
has faded back to me.

I see the scars
the overly red cheeks,
and all the other blemishes.
I see how my eyes dull
against my natural skin.
I see my lips with no color at all.

And I'm glad
that someone sees me
after my mask has faded.
Even if its only
me seeing me.