I've fallen
fallen off from the perfect image framed of me
for me to embody a perfect daughter
daughter that's no longer me

I was one of the nicest
I was one of the best
Fell off my high chair, can I just lay here and rest?
It feels as if I have to live up
to the things I no longer want
to the expectations not of my own
but of the people that dares to throw me off my throne

The fire and desire to break away grows in me
Yet I'm stuck inside a cell where they claim I'm free
As I stand still in the same root like an old tree
I envy the leaves of life falling when it felt right to flee

I'm no angel, nor do my demons define me
But in this earth,
to look after thyself is seen as a deed of evil
Self-worth constantly shattered
and we ask why people lack the effort?
the effort to be and stay true to ourselves are enough of a riddle
I'm not the same as I used to be, I'm no longer the little me.