I thrive for perfection, to be unique.
The world to be perfect and my life complete,
But I am left broken, let down and beat.
Should I give up on life? and accept defeat?
I tied myself up, I long to be free.
I gave up my passion, I lost the real me.
I lied to myself and held onto the passed,
I stayed in place and kept my secrets stashed.
I want perfection but I hate whats within.
I dont feel accepted underneath my skin
And I ask the question, if I am liked?
Am I too different or am I alright?
I know the answer, do I look fine?
I know I am not what the world would define as perfect.
When I wake up, I dont feel alive.
Life can be so dismal, how can I survive?
My shame is hidden, hidden behind sleeves,
I got up again with blood on my knees.
I try so hard, to make myself proud,
I hate my existence, I stand out from the crowd.
I follow the prints of my old routine,
I stare in the mirror and long to be seen.
I wanna be perfect and not unique,
The world to be perfect and my life complete.
And I hate that question, am I liked?
Can I be different? Is that alright?
I know the answer, I am just fine.
Cuz I know I am not what the world would define as perfect.
Im not perfect...