makeup

Wish I were a makeup artist.

So, I could lay foundation and line

what’s perfect.

Cover up experience and scar

–        Tissue

–        paper.

I would pay attention, mask, care and take time

But seriously, wish I were a makeup artist.
I would love, fight, draw lines
drop covers and make up.

I would make up for lost time.

Laughs had at expense,

that never had last dance,

or first one,

for tears shed or

words said

but didn’t

Though, I tried to be nice;

I didn’t master the skill to sit you down

and listen

while working on your confidence.

I would make up stories that would always be lies

cause the face wearing the mask would be mine