The Girl Without a Face

I have many faces and many that live inside...
my head that is, some of whom i wish to hide.
They scream let me out, i have a voice to be heard.
When I look into the mirror, my reflection is a bit disturbed.
My image consists of sadness, mirror images of pain, despair, anguish, fear and even madness
what more do I have to explain.
Digital pixels of pigments, both brown, tan, and yellow,
Little pieces of me, i don't want to share, some that would frighten even the most fleeting heart or the most gentleness of a fellow.
When we take off our masks and put it aside on the dresser or vanity,
Which reflection do we see, or what face shall we wear today
The choice is yours or is it?
Society may choose your answer for you.