There's a little more to this story
Than I care to write
That one day, you grow a little older

And you start to realize
That the gates are open a whole lot wider
But the chains bite at your feet all the same
And you still feel
Trapped

And you can't explain the feeling
That makes you want to scream and shout
To nobody in particular
Because all your heart feels right now
Is heavy

And they tell you over and over again
To bend your knees
And widen your stance
And take the strength from the bottom up
Don't break your back
Just lift.
But you're weak, and you've always been weak
And there's no day that you think things might just get better
Because lately, they haven't
And you tell yourself over and over again
I'm never going to be that type of girl
That cries in her bedroom
And resigns herself to sadness
And thinks the world is some hopeless place
Because all that is to me
Is a weakness-
A sickness you can't diagnose.

And I'm scared.
I'm more than scared.
I'm terrified
Of the potential of becoming that type of person
Because I'm not.
I'm just not, **** it.