what is makeup?

It's my armour. Hides my blemishes to boost the confidence. Gives me the strength to face the day head on. It's meeting up with a foe to keep the peace. Keeping all others happy, putting my hurt to bed just for them. It's inventing the unreal. Imagining scenarios where I ran in with my cape, pants on the outside. I saved her. It's hiding the mental breakdown I had just now. It's covers me enough to face the world I have to exist in. It disguises the internal torment that pushes to the surface. The baggy, sore red eyes. The puffy cheeks. It would conceal the bruises if they were on my skin. It is my daily mask. My normal work-face. So happy and content. An illusion. To me, it's a tiny link of my day-to-day chainmail. The phrase "to face the day" literally involves my face. The teller of all. Cover it and wear it well or people will know