I remember when you walked to my house in the pouring rain,
when we embraced in the middle of the road I felt no more pain.
I looked up at you and our lips collided,
but I knew the love was only one sided.

Everybody in this would just hates and hates and hates,
leaving no room for love,
leaving no room to be myself,
leaving no room for a smile.

Reality is calling and I can no longer send it to voicemail,
reality is here to show me that i'm beautiful,
reality is not always fitting in but reality is finding my place to fit in.

I watch teenage girls flipping through magazines filled with society's image of "normal" and "beautiful",
pictures of girls so small that they are ghostly.
This is the reason why girls are getting smaller each year.

Maybe shes born with it, maybe its Maybelline?
I'm definitely sure we are all born with it,
being lied to so they cover up their faces with a mask of insecurity.

Sometimes I hug her in the morning and she smells like **** water,
ontop of her head is a big messy bun,
on her body is a flowing skirt and a crop top.

Her lips are full and her eyes are wide and shes lovely to me.

Sometimes I hug her in the morning and she smells like cigarettes,
once I let her go the smell lingers on my sweater and I love it because it reminds me of her.

She had dark circles under her eyes,
pine needles in her hair and shes lovely to me.

Sometimes I hug her in the morning and she smells like roses,
wide eyes and beautiful,
quiet yet well spoken.

She is a girl of many identities and shes lovely to me.

You sit there numb and nervous from unnecessary narcotics,
losing feeling of your body yet you move like you're on fire.
With each violent twitch comes a more comfortable comatose.
Letters jumbled,
you type as you are speaking,
mumbled.
Behind a dimly lit phone screen I watch you slip away.

In your house a broken face is the same as a broken plate,
it happens all the time.

In your house a cry for help is the same as a telemarketer call,
unanswered.

In your house you have learned to blame your bruises on falling,
in your house you have been told to lie about what goes on inside.

In your house is where you went insane,
in your house is where you left the bullet in his brain.