The Play Called, "Life".

I am an actress, and I'm in a play called, "Life". Everyone plays a part in this play. Everyone in this play wears a mask. These masks are beautiful, they are flawless and perfect. Behind these masks there are blemishes, scars, cuts, and bruises. During this play everyone keeps there masks on and nobody ever tries to take it off. Except for me, I want this mask off, I hate it, and I wish it would disappear. I hate these blemishes, scars, cuts, and bruises and I want them to heal. But when I try to take off the mask and let out my screams and heal the problems; thats what the blemishes, scars, cuts, and bruises are, problems. When I try to take off my mask people run away and plug their ears. Or they push me away and slam the mask back on so they don't have to see that pain on my face. They choose to forget me and go on with their perfect, fake lives. I don't want to be fake anymore. I'm sick of it; living with these problems. I wish I could die and actually live a real flawless life. Take me home God, so I don't have to do it.