Try to pretend to be a thousand things
that I'm not,
like, put myself in pinks
and polka dots.
Care too much about what he thinks,
begging for his nods,
although he doesn't even play on my heartstrings.

I cry out to God.
It commands me to stop
and go discover a million things
that I've already got,
and another man for whom my hearts springs.

There it starts another plot.