Your so popular and I’m so picky
I choose friends that are better than me
Because maybe they can make me feel better abt the myself
But being at the top isn’t so fun when your at the bottom of the top
Because you have so many friends
And I have you
I have other friends but I don’t like them
Because I’m so picky and I need you
But I hate that you don’t need me
Not even a little
Not even at all
And I hate that your my best friend
But I’m not yours
And it makes sense
Because I’m at the bottom of the top
Just barely making it
So choose someone better
Someone nicer and prettier
You deserve it
I’ll try to be less picky

I was born in a fishbowl
With crystal-clear glass
No one ever told me—
Told me I was watching
Watching from afar

Oh, I was knocking on the glass
But you didn’t hear—
No, you never do
Will I ever stop knocking?

And they say, “It’s just for now,
Just a little longer.”
But I was born in a fishbowl
And I haven’t stopped knocking

The glass is a sphere
It warps my perception
That’s how it was made—
So I see what you want

Oh, I live in a bowl
And I think you put me there
You said it was for a while
But I’m getting too big

Inside is pretty
But outside is new
Outside has you
The water is cold—
I’m sure the air is warm

I think I’m free soon
Because I saw you
I saw you walk in
And you had another fish

It’s my turn now.
I’m leaving soon—
I think I’m leaving soon
Nothing warping my perception.


My turn to feed the fish,
That new one you brought in.
I’ll tell her the water’s clean
Then make the tank smaller.

Am I too young to miss the past
Am I too old to enjoy the rain
Too young to notice the change
Too old to be immature

Or maybe too young to think when to blink
in fear I’ll miss the bliss if I stop to think

Or maybe age isn’t real
Just there to control when we do what

When we should be embarrassed to cry,
or when to start to live our lives,
and with a blink of an eye
you’re caught barely alive,
wore out from existence of time

The baby sea turtle gets abandoned
Abandoned by its parents
The baby sea turtle needs their mother
1 in 10,000

Oh, 1 in 10,000 live to adulthood
That 1 in 10,000
Moves on to abandon their children
Ironic, isn’t it?

How parents can forget the struggle
Faced in their very own childhood
How the children grow up to be
Just like the horrors they swore to avoid

Yes, I feel bad for the baby sea turtles
But it’s their culture—
Their lives and the expectations

But to feel for the turtles is to feel for you
Your parents didn’t abandon you

Oh no, sweetie, worse—
Your parents isolated you
Mistreated you

And to feel for the turtles is to feel for you
Feel for the life you didn’t choose

It’s not the culture
That causes the forced isolation
It’s the cold hearts and the failed system

Oh, who is the sea turtle?
I’m not sure
But to feel for the turtles is to feel for you
Even when there is nothing to do

Abuse, avoid, forgive, abuse, avoid, forgive
It’s never ending a cycle of stupidity I allow to continue
We talk, we have fun, but I must follow the script

A cycle of stupidity I can’t break free of
Oh, how family can cause so much pain
A crave for love, and a crave to love
And all they crave is to be on top

But it’s not my fault you’re not the favorite
It’s not my fault you’re lazy and dumb
But it is my fault I stay
Stay in this box, broken and withered,

I stay with hopes you’ll change
But it’s been 15 years
And your grip has gotten stronger
And your heart has gotten colder
As my heart falls further

But I crave for love and protection
I crave for normalcy, and to be able to confide in you
But you’ve left me to fall apart like a box in the rain

I see others and how they live
Their hearts full
Not like mine
Not like yours

Not like your empty, broken heart
That knows nothing other than breaking mine
Not like my broken heart
That knows nothing but to try and fix the pieces.

Oh, it’s truly a cycle of stupidity, and I want to break free
But I live in a world of abuse, avoid, forgive

Am I too young to miss the past
Am I too old to enjoy the rain
Too young to notice the change
Too old to be immature

Or maybe too young to think when to blink
in fear I’ll miss the bliss if I stop to think

Or maybe age isn’t real
Just there to control when we do what
When we should be embarrassed to cry,
or when to start to live our lives,
and with a blink of an eye
you’re caught barely alive,
wore out from existence of time

It was never that bad —
until it was.
Until I tested my luck
and didn’t pass the spoon.

I wasn’t the “good girl”
I had to be.
And it cost me — heavily.
You say I made you.
I knew the rules.
I broke them.
That's how you want me to think, right?

But I know the truth.
You’re a polar bear
to the unaware.
With your crisp white coat.

But even they slip —
leave blood on that coat.

You forgot to check my phone.
I have a video
of you preying on the weak.

But I won’t show anyone.
I won’t fight.

That’s the difference —
between me and the prey.
The prey doesn’t feel bad
for the hunter.
The prey asks for help.

And I?
I stay.

Your coat stays white.

Just hoping you leave me
alone to fight.

You gave me a boat—
A boat made of paper.
You painted it blue,
I preferred green.
You poor soul, couldn’t have known

Oh, You gave me a boat—
I said it was perfect,
And I knew it was paper,
Yes, I swear I did.

But I put it in the water,
Even quickly named it June,
A quiet way to remember
The day you forgot soon

And I knew it was melting—
And I know you did too

But god gave me a heart
Gave you one too
Though yours is for beating
And mine is to feel


Still—
I went in the boat,
Oh, I didn’t want fighting.
A few feet later,
I felt the water flow.

I swam to the shore,
And yes, I saw you laughing—
But still, I swam to you,

For I could not call for help
Help from the warm murky water
No I will not anger you.
And I didn’t choose to drown,
For I cannot bear it.

Bear to see you suffer,
Like I would have for you.
Though you do not deserve it,
And not for forever— I hope
I swim back to you

I love them they’re so cool
But they’ll leave me to play pool
I love you do you love me
Cuz you’ll leave me soon as can be
there my favorite people
Wouldn’t trade yall for the world
Would you trade me
Or just leave me
Left teary
While you say you don’t want me
And I talk unnecessarily
So I shut mouth
Say I didn’t wanna come
You say your glad
You can tell I’m mad
But I still love you
And you still go

I call and I text, I hope and I pray,
Because there’s no one left, no one here to stay.
You’re busy with friends and I’m done saying please
I knew it was coming, the sound of the bees

You’ve climbed so high while I’m below
And you start to hear the bees temptation in the echo
I sit here and write, while you sit and laugh,
Stuck thinking of times when my heart wasn’t half.

I still remember when honey wasn’t scarce,
When I wasn’t left alone, caught in despair.
When others stripped ur pollen, and the garden bare
I had other flowers with plenty to share.

Flowers so elegant so white and crisp
It only lasted a while- a while of bliss
No
And though honey is sweet and bees are brave
They sting when scared, leaving them in the grave
But when desperation meets temptation ur left with our expiration
So now you’re up there with bees fitting in seamlessly

And so should I because flowers are overrated
Let my heart feel- no longer sedated

And though you were my only flower,
I’m not gonna cower
I don’t call or text nor hope or pray
there’s no one left, no one here to stay.

As she walks around, tiptoeing about,
Judging herself so filled with doubt.
Conform, compress, and pay the dues—
The audience smiles at the pointe shoes.

The air felt warm on a tightened chest,
Urgency excused the hurt she pressed.
Forced to step and leave a mess.

The stage creaked with every leap,
Cracked and crumbled, she let pieces seep.
When souls so kind are forced to break,
the warm air shakes in a state of quake.

Oh, am I the cause of these broken boards?
Or was it rotten wood no one restored?

Toes blistered where the thought fell by
The aching hush of silent cries.
The pointe shoes take their final steps.
She only wished to see the stage rest.

But still, the pieces kept on falling.
It was never her or even the crowd calling.
Oh, it was the rain above and warm summer air
That left the stage in a state of despair.

A soul no longer trapped by the crowd ahead
Or being the cause of the stages death—
Hearts move on to carry other burdens,
How will she think for herself with no more curtains?