They try to label me,
Tell me who I'm supposed to be
But I'm not giving in to that.
On a scale from 1 to 10
They try to tell me how I am
But I'm better then that,
I don't need your numbers because

I am perfect as I am
I don't need you to tell me
Who I'm supposed to be.
Hey, why is it we get objectified?
Told we are not perfect as we are
And that we have to change
In order to belong.

Why is it everyone wants to be on top,
Looking like the "perfect" person they see in magazines?
Nobody seems to realise
We're made to be who we are
Not some fake idea
And unrealistic dream where nobody feels good enough.

We are perfect as we are
We can be whoever we choose to be
There's no reason that
We should change at all.
We are not somebody you can alter
Or try and squeeze into that box
We all belong as who we are!

I don't want to sit around waiting for a knight in shining armour
I want to be my own hero
And not let people change that.
Why cant I be who I'm meant to be
Is that so wrong?
Will it ever be seen as perfect
To be who we are?

They try to stick me in that box,
Label me and make me feel small
But I can't give them that power.
On a scale from 1 to 10
I am perfect as I am
I don't need someone telling me who I'm supposed to be,
Because no matter what anyone says we are all perfect as we are.

If I wanted to describe you,
I would need to learn
To write in numbers

For there are only
Twenty-six
Letters in the alphabet
But an
Infinity
Of numbers

And I would need every one of them,
Just to describe you

365
Three simple numbers, a lot of meaning.
365 the number of freckles scattered over your body
365 the amount of times you told me you loved me in one day
365 the last 3 didgits of your cell number
365 the amount of times I watched your chest rise and fall until I fell asleep

365 the total ammount of days since you left
365 May no longer be the amount of freckles you have, she may have found one I missed
365 the amount of times you've said you loved her, it may have multiplied or tripled
365 no longer your last three digits, believe me I've checked

365 days of living without you
365 has tore me down and brought me to hell and back
365 no longer stands for the total number of days in a year
365 stands for how may days my heart has broken and how may times you've said goodbye

1 thing
2 say
3 words
4 you

*i love you

sheep at night, (1 a.m.)
(but i always thought that sheep were not the best farm animal to represent insomnia.). eventually sheep turns to old memories, choke down like hard candies. hurts to swallow. or maybe that's just the tears.

(2 a.m.)or bottles of beer on a wall, except i'm
numbering the ones on your floor, shattered. drinking never made you better but it never stopped you from opening another. and another.

(3 a.m.) numbers of leaves on clovers. i picked so many and i found one four-leaf one. i lost it and never found another. is it possible to lose luck as it is to gain it? if that's the case, it explains where you went.

i counted. i have.

i count but i've lost track.

One...two...three...four....
Close the gate and lock the door.
Five... Six...seven...eight....
Go hide you must be quick.
Nine...ten...eleven...twelve....
Hear the zombies come out of hell.

You're a solid nine.
But seven ate nine.
I guess that makes you a ten, then.

you toss my feelings back and forth like a tennis ball.
It was so asinine to think you cared at all.
you make it out like you wanna meight, but end up stealing
my heart, which isn't condusev in my healing.
You make me six. With me, you didn't have a rival.
I used to think you were necessary for my surfivel.
therefour, from here on, I won't allow you to crush me,
no more threel seeing my reaction when you touch me.
I don't understand people who just get together
to make you think you won and blow you off like a feather.
I half had enough and this topic's not moot,
I have zeroed in on my target and i am ready to shoot.