Pretend pretend pretend

I wake up. Each layer of make up and lotion adds on. Cover up, eye shadow, liner, mascara, powder, blush, leg cream, body lotion, perfume. Not a lot, but just enough. I still look like me, just not the real me. I put the rich alpine girl mask on.

I walk out. I say good morning, I say amen, I say goodbye. I smile through tired eyes, give a kiss on the cheek. I put on the perfect daughter mask on.

I get into my car, turn my music up. For the first time, I breathe. 

I walk into class. I put my head up, shoulders back, and my music on. I don't talk to anyone in the hall. I raise my eyebrows in acknowledgment to anyone that says hello. I talk to my teachers. I smile to some. I make sarcastic comments. I do as little as possible to get a perfect report card. I'm quiet if I want. I'm funny when I want. I make friends when I want to. I am girly when I need to be girly. I'm annoying when I need to be annoying. I'm happy if I have to be happy. I put the perfect student mask on. I put the perfect friend mask on. I put the perfect teenager mask on.


And this is how to pretend. 
This is how to get through high school.
This is pretend
Pretend
Pretend