Where do I belong on this scetchy line?
Laying here all I am aware of is a stomach
Singing in my room I imagine myself a perfect star
Getting ready for an event
all I see is flaws blinding my view of the mirror
Ready to go out and have fun I only feel confident
Walking with perfection passing me
and I feel like I'm a a grape in a box of raisins
I decide not to care how I look to others
Then I see a magazine shamming a beautiful woman
Someday I will find peace with myself
By then will I be skinny and beautiful?
Or will I be actually happy with the way I am?
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
Where do I belong on this scetchy line?
Laying here all I am aware of is a stomach
Singing in my room I imagine myself a perfect star
Getting ready for an event
all I see is flaws blinding my view of the mirror
Ready to go out and have fun I only feel confident
Walking with perfection passing me
and I feel like I'm a a grape in a box of raisins
I decide not to care how I look to others
Then I see a magazine shamming a beautiful woman
Someday I will find peace with myself
By then will I be skinny and beautiful?
Or will I be actually happy with the way I am?
I hate the media
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