Just let me burn.

I hate the way you look at me. Like I'm the devil.
That's how I think of it. Like you wish I was someone else. Someone better.
Well, I'm sorry. I can't be perfect. I can't be Amanda. I don't want to be.
I wish you weren't ashamed of me. But I'm not changing who I am to make you happy.
I'm gonna be grown one day. And you'll wonder why I'm gone.
But I'm going to be somebody. I can promise you that.
Then you'll want to say "Hey, that's MY daughter." Instead of "This is my freak"