I grab the sharp object so tight in my fist.
As it cuts through my skin, I can hear myself hiss.
The pain is so lovely, but it still hurts inside,
To always go 'round telling all of those lies.
"Yes, of course I am happy!", "I don't know what you'd expect
From a girl who goes home and starts slicing her skin and she's wreck-
Ing her body, which all know to be fat."
Why, what'd you expect? For me not to say that?
"Oh, dear Sir, nice to meet you, ignore the scars on my wrist.
I try hard to hide them, but sometimes I miss
Them while I'm covering them with ridiculous sleeves.
I'm sorry if sweatshirts in summer's a peeve."
"Oh, and Miss, you look lovely, with your bones sticking out.
How lovely it'd be to not have any doubt
In my body, but sadly, I still cannot say
That I don't try to look like you by starving each day."
The pain is so lovely, but it still hurts inside,
To always go 'round telling all of those lies.