6 August 2012
Hidden away, behind my make-up, behind my smile.
You think I'm perfect, you tell me all the time.
There is nothing perfect about the person I see.
A small, fragile girl, hiding.
Perfect isn't the right word to describe me.
She's not real, the girl you see. How could I be perfect? How could that be me?
I can never figure out. We obviously see two different things.
I'll try to hide away for a little while, to fool everyone, so you can see the "perfect" me.
Perfect • Opuss № I