I wish I could shut my ears, and plug my eyes

You pretend like I don't exist, but I know you see me standing here. I know you can see the tears I'm fighting. No, even you aren't that obtuse or blind. Though you like to act as if you are. But your charades don't fool me anymore.

You tell me--or at least you used to--that I wasn't a complete failure. That I could do anything I put my mind to. That's all changed now, though. Why? Did you realise I'm never going to be perfect? Or is the fact that I will never amount to the standards you have set for me? Have you only now just realised that I'm not like other girls? I do not care what your reasoning is. All I care about is figuring out just how you expect me to be so perfect when I'm so obviously flawed, cracked and shattered, like a mirror that's fallen to the ground one too many times. I can't, no matter how many times I try, be everything you expect from me. You used to tell me to just be myself, that that's all you want, but now you're eating your own words, chewing the bitter verbs, nouns. I'm sorry for not being what you want me to be. I'm sorry for not being perfect.