It’s been a long time since I’ve felt fresh faced.

I’m constantly caked in this thick make up.

People used to be able to see me.

My freckles.

My light pale pink cheeks.

My shiny nose.

My feathery eye lashes.

I used to have eyebrows, now I get graffiti’d with a black marker.

How I miss myself.

I died when I had to ‘look’ pretty.

My story is short, but so was my joy.