I doubt myself, I'm agitated by the world
I don't see myself moving, I know I'll get hurt
My heart pounds, when I lend an ear to their opinions
I feel ashamed, why am I at this position?
I don't feel pretty, is it okay?
can you help me to shed these heavy regrets i weigh?
I want someone to have proclivity for me,
requisite feelings, as deep as the sea
I felt complete, when I was younger
I didn't believe the magazines until the boys told me about their hunger
so I had to get the lipsticks, covertly
cause moms don't understand, do they? how silly
I got dresses, found makeup
I let the unwanted brushes touch my skin
It was all the starting then, I was 13
little did I know, being a girl is not as easy I thought it would be
I remembered hiding it all when my mom asked about it, all quickly
to look pretty or feel, decide that first
I don't want to quench any man's thirst
there's never been a way to make this easy
I want to set these emotions on fire, uneasy
will I ever be like the models in magazines
those models, those perfect pieces of art, asks the teens
I feel like drowning and I don't feel I'm enough for anybody, see
I don't feel complete anymore, plain-looking is that a word for me?
will I ever be/feel/look pretty?
I'm a mess indeed.
I don't think anyone can ever love me
not lovable, I guess. I'll be what I want one day, I believe.
or maybe, I'm just, just ill.
will anyone ever, make me feel complete again? I'll throw the sleeping pills.
iloveyou, I'll neve hear these 8 letters,
oh look, under my bed, there are my torn up feathers.