Say one thing, be the other. (spoken word.)
As much as I'd like to think, I'm independent... I can't stand being alone.
As much as I'd like to think, I'm tough... I hate the stinging of small scratches.
As much as I'd like to think, I can do things on my own... I secretly want you to help me.
As much as I think I have a horrible glare, people tell me my eyes are beautiful.
As much as I think I want to kick your ass, unless I absolutely have to I wouldn't.
As much as I think I shouldn't cry in front of people, I break down in front of you all the time.
As much as I hate being feminine, I know that I do things that make me looks like a princess.
As much as I hate letting you manipulate me, I set up traps for myself all the time.
As much as I hate the way my body looks, I still eat junk food on Friday nights when I'm alone.
So when I'm sitting there, silent and pale as a full moon, you know that I'm hurting myself inside.
I promised you I wouldn't physically hurt myself any longer, but what I couldn't promise, and made sure not to, is that I would continue having my insides hurt. By not eating. By thinking about the horrible things in my life. By imagining the pain of the scars on my arm.
I need help. So this is my pleading. My begging and screaming. Please, try to see the pain inside my eyes. Come back, hug me, and just help me. Just fucking help me.
As much as I'd like to think, I'm tough... I hate the stinging of small scratches.
As much as I'd like to think, I can do things on my own... I secretly want you to help me.
As much as I think I have a horrible glare, people tell me my eyes are beautiful.
As much as I think I want to kick your ass, unless I absolutely have to I wouldn't.
As much as I think I shouldn't cry in front of people, I break down in front of you all the time.
As much as I hate being feminine, I know that I do things that make me looks like a princess.
As much as I hate letting you manipulate me, I set up traps for myself all the time.
As much as I hate the way my body looks, I still eat junk food on Friday nights when I'm alone.
So when I'm sitting there, silent and pale as a full moon, you know that I'm hurting myself inside.
I promised you I wouldn't physically hurt myself any longer, but what I couldn't promise, and made sure not to, is that I would continue having my insides hurt. By not eating. By thinking about the horrible things in my life. By imagining the pain of the scars on my arm.
I need help. So this is my pleading. My begging and screaming. Please, try to see the pain inside my eyes. Come back, hug me, and just help me. Just fucking help me.