(They say)

Every beautiful girl wears makeup.

(They tell me)

Keep you chin up beautiful. You're the center of attention.

(They yell)

Stop crying. You have all the things in the world.

(They whisper)

What is wrong with you? How could you not want this?


(I say)

This is not what I want. I am not beautiful. This clay. It covers me up.

It makes me beautiful.

I'm nothing but a pale skeleton underneath. 

With a hollow body aching to be loved for me.


(I yell)

I am not clay. You can't smooth me out.

You can't cover all my scars up.

You, you can glaze me up.

You can't shine me up and make me perfect.

(I cry)

Can't you see?!

I'm a rock.

And you have to cut me up.

(I whisper)

That's what you've been doing all my life.

I've been letting you though...

(I shout)

But I'm eroding.

I'm dying.

I don't want to be this. 

(I fall)

My heart is a flower and my ribs are locking me up.

I can't open up.

No sunshine is hitting me.

The moon covers half of me up.

My face is a sunset covered in lies of beauty and colors I wish would just abyss into nothing more than love.

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