you can dress yourself
up
paint your face pretty colors till the paint runs
out
and you can wear makeup to cover up
the lying you've done
but nothing works like pretending you cant
cry
nothing works better than forgetting what you remember
pretending that your face is picture perfect, copy pasted down
find yourself stuck in place
so you copy paste,, copy paste
until you look better
and nothing works as good as hiding
and waiting until your skin decays and you can build it up again into something
fake
leather, plastic, anything anything that wont
break
thats the only way you'll feel real again
copy pasted ****,,blurred edges and no definition
no matter how you try
you cant cover up your lies
you cant paint a perfect picture of your insides
you cover up so you can feel new
robotic, hypnotic
but you'll never copy paste a new
you

i wouldnt know whats under my skin
its funny
when you think about it
i thought i knew myself so well
like the back of my hand
but to be honest
i couldnt tell the back of my hand from anyone elses
i couldnt tell my face apart from the crowd
i couldnt tell myself that im something new
i keep on losing myself again and again
it cant ever end
ill keep on drifting, pale as a spector and eyes like flat stones
with a heart of coal that keeps burning blacker and chars my breath with its smoke
soon it will run out
and then when death invites me with sweet embrace
maybe they'll notice me as i lay still in the coffin
for the first time, i wont be such a ghost
for the first time
ill be me
maybe then ill know whats under my skin