Turning on the T.V, you see a beautiful woman
Standing up, proud and straight.
You look down at your not-so-perfect self,
And your heart fills with hate.

You’re not like that woman,
But you’re beautiful just the same.
You have beauty where she doesn’t
Internal beauty is what you can claim.

If only you could see it,
You’d know your beauty too.
Unfortunately, society has brainwashed us
Into not loving people like you.

If I could change the world
We wouldn’t have to have waists of a centigram.
And I’d have the cute guys love me
For who I am- not what I am.

So look at yourself,
You’re beautiful just like me.
Loving yourself is the right path;
Confidence is the key.

I keep my paintbrush with me
Wherever I may go
In case I need to cover up
So the real me doesn’t show.
I’m so afraid to show you me
Afraid of what you’ll do-
That you might laugh or say mean things;
I’m afraid I might lose you.

But if you be patient and close your eyes
I’ll strip off my paint coats real slow.
Please understand how much it hurts
To let the real me show.
Now my coats are all stripped off-
I feel naked, bare, and cold.
But if you still love me with all that you see
You are my friend, pure as gold.

I need to keep my paintbrush, though,
And hold it in my hand.
I need to keep it handy
In case someone doesn’t understand.
So please protect me, my dear friend,
And thanks for loving me true.
But, please, let me keep my paintbrush with me
Until I love me too.

The mailbox hangs open/
Trying to breathe

People may tell you to not cry...
I won't because I know the difference.
They think they know when in fact they lie...
I say bury yourself in the deepest of detriments.

They may say that a new day will come...
They only spout what they can't comprehend.
They forget that you are ailing from a broken heart and that you're not dumb.
There's only you in your space, alone you stand...

Textbook responses are all they can offer...
They know not that it'll only make things worse...
There can be no replies so nice and proper.
To rid you of your life, your plight, your curse.

They may even share personal events that they think familiar.
Thinking what worked for them may work for you.
But no two situations are the same, albeit looking quite similar.
At the end of the day, you only owe it to yourself to pull yourself through.

I say feed your pain, grieve hard if you must
Wallow... Dwell... Drown yourself everyday.
Let your blood sear your insides, beneath your crumbling crust.
Let the world around you descend into destruction and decay.

What made me the expert...
To say these horrid, putrid things.
Because I am you and we both lay in the dirt.
Driven mad by the persistent echoes of our own misgivings.

I'm no expert... I am just a broken man.
Telling you to let yourself be caught in your own sad and angry song.
Be weak... Be as weak as you possibly can...
So you could rise from the ashes and emerge hale and strong.