It hurts,
it hurts so,
so much
knowing
that I'm
not the kind of girl
people write songs about
or think about,
care about
or fall for..
Cause I'm too noisy
but also too quiet.
cause I'm not gentle
and not that kind
and I'm not gorgeous
or amazingly talented
and smart.

Will I ever find love..?

Friday, at the Café
With iced matcha latte
and things she didn't want to say
What will fill the void?
In the midst of the crowd,
you are the one that I avoid.

Hopefully, the doors will open wide,
And I’ll step inside, full of pride.
The scent of sugar, warm and sweet,
A dream that started from just a beat.

Flour on my hands, a spark in my heart,
Every recipe, a work of art.
Late nights, early days, endless tries,
Turning failures into highs.

They’ll walk in, drawn by the smell,
Of vanilla, cinnamon—I know it well.
A cozy place, laughter and light,
A little café, warm and bright.

Maybe they'll say, "I love this place,"
With smiles that make my heart race.
And I’ll know, through all the strife,
I baked my dreams into life.