I thought this town was the only place,
That made me feel like I was stifled,
As though struggling to be happy,
Could only be done in this lonesome place.
But these insecurities,
They stifle & drown me out,
Weighing heavier and heavier a burden.
Comparisons & accusations,
Weaknesses & desires,
My every flaw pointed out,
Displayed as if I'm always at fault.
"I'm sorry"'s piling up.
Maybe I'm not perfect,
Maybe I'll never be perfect.
But aren't humans more interesting that way?
I wouldn't be me without each flaw,
a new seasoning in the dish that is my life.
Besides,
Do humans ever really change?