I look around searching for myself,
I look for a sign to know where I dwell.
I can see my hands, my nose, my feet.
I can smell, taste, hear, and feel.
I have emotions, loud and clear;
I have feelings of love and fear,
I am a soul in a stranger's body,
I am a prisoner of a world too haughty.
What is a house when it does not feel like home?
What is a family when your true self cannot be shown?
Why does finding someone who understands you seem so hard?
Why does trying to be yourself only makes you fall apart?
Who said life is all about pleasing others?
Who said life is all about being mothers?
Is faking how you feel really worth it?
Is practice enough to make you perfect?
Are those voices in my brain really there?
Are those people being honest and fair?
Am I the only one who feels alienated?
Am I the only one who feels castrated?
Tell me, am I skinny enough to fit the standards?
Tell me, am I smart enough to have manners?
Tell me now, do I have a pretty face?
Tell me now, do I deserve to be chased?
Does it look like I am chaste?
Does it look like I am straight?
Will I ever escape the system?
Will I ever not be a victim?
Can I, for once, close my eyes
Can I, for once, see a world free of lies?