It's so hard,
to be the perfect daughter
to be the cause of their laughter
to be the sun in an endless black sky.
It's so hard,
to be a good example
to always be the shoulder to cry on
when all that you want to do
is just ******* die.

Where is the manual on life?
Is there one I wasn't informed of?
That says you have to be a certain way?

That you have to be
Perfect?
Normal?
The same?

Because I didn't get one

I'm learning as I get older
Everyone will bring you sorrow
Whether it's sixty years down the road
Six months, sixteen days, or tomorrow
Eventually those you care for most
Who claim they feel the same in return
Will hurt you with words, actions, and decisions
It's human nature as I have learned
Our selfishness makes us monsters
We all take a turn before we die
Playing the villain in anothers story
Regardless of the ways we try
It's always the ones that love you the most
That leave the deepest, worst, ugliest scars
Then to pacify the pain we pass it along to the next
We are imperfect; it's just how we are
Yes everyone you know will cause damage
They'll become reasons you put up high walls
And are too afraid to let the outside world in
Why you gradually stop answering calls  
We all make mistakes, we all carry secrets
We all find different ways to deal
It is not the wound you inflict that matters
But if you choose to run or stay to help it heal

You always look at me
like I'm a goddess
even though I'm not that pretty
even though I'm not that smart
Oh Albert, You must have the biggest heart
to love something
so imperfect