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.
Internal conflict within me in the environment that disguises itself as a safe haven to be me. I'm living in a small *** not for a big tree.