we got ourselves
we got old cities inside of us that you never know how to spell.

we got someone
we got paintings that you leave on hold and they never get done.

and that's completely fine and we can do whatever, the only rule is 'don't hurt anyone',
and i don't know about you but i get hurt from time to time

you'll never know i upset i was when i said 'hello' but the answer was silent and it hurt, although it was probably a word that just wasn't heard.
so many times you ask if i'm okay and i say i'm fine but it's just a lie, a lie, a lie
because all i did in a past few days was just laying in bed and i was sad but i couldn't cry.
and i keep my mouth shut for the past year because i a fear that i won't be heard or my voice is unclear so no one is ever near.

i demand from my words to be peculiar and weird when the same thing can be said with other words with my voice i shouldn't be ashamed of the way i speak

in my therapist's words, i am a perfectionist and i never thought of myself like that, aren't they people who do everything well and stuff?
apparently, i was so wrong and oh, god, that makes sense. i want everything to be the best and want to time to be spent so things in my mind get intense. and won't ever say something like this in real life because no one understands.

i hate to repeat “i’m not good enough” ‘cause everyone’s thinking of something else and they think that i say “i’m not good enough for someone” but i actually mean that i’m not even enough for myself.