Why can’t I be like the girls you see on TV?
It’s like every magazine cover is staring back and mocking me.
The pictures of the perfect bodies are pointing and laughing at me in disgust.
They tell me how pathetic I am because my body will never measure up or down?
I wish they knew how hard I try to fit in with them.
Because right now I’m just sitting in the back, it seems no one cares about you unless you’re perfect.
People don’t know about the extremes I reach
In just trying to please the mirror.
It will never matter to me what other people say;
I know what I see.
The reflection does not lie.
These numbers speak the truth and they tell me
Who I am and what I’m not.
They tell me that I’m different.
That I am the one no one could want.