How can someone love me if I'm too broken?
If my scars are visible and ugly
If I keep too many secrets unspoken
And my heart is always unhappy

How can someone love me if I'm shattered?
I am a hard puzzle you can't ever solve
The pieces of me are scattered
And i am difficult to dissolve

How can someone love me if I don't even love myself?
If I'm the one who sends trouble
If I'm like an old book stock in a shelf
And a boring girl who doesn't go out from her bubble

So how can someone love me if I'm locked up in a cage
And too broken like a crumpled page.

What if it rained daisies today?
And no one got wet
and nothing washed away?

What if the sun shone bright
as daisies flew?

What if the breeze blew
soft daisies like spinners
in the wind?

Would we all be happy then?

It’s like I’m sitting, watching a love scene in a movie where teens are driving and swimming and laughing and I'm immersed and enjoying it, but then the harsh, violently fluorescent lights behind me turn on and the director yells “Cut!” and my brain is hijacked by a new reality of fake, lonely, nothingness.