I used to wonder used to wonder what it was like to be loved for me.
I felt like if I were to lose all the acne someone would see me.
I thought that the prettier I could become the more options
I would receive years later I'm still just as lonely.
Actually I might be more alone than ever.
Someone forgot to tell me that Max Ruby Woo lipstick won't make it better that long hair, nice skin, and abs won't last forever that the men you let in are still out looking for treasure, being physically gorgeous isn't a savior & having the most beautiful smile won't save him.
I forgot to hold onto who I was on the inside, I wish it were easy for me to let people see what's on the inside.
I wish somebody would've told me I was already perfect on the outside for the person who's perfect for me.
These bones have always been quite lovely, these bones can't wait to be touched, these bones can't wait to be loved, to hold trust, to bulid and bear life in 9 months to be held through the roughs beyond the lust.
These bones could always keep up.
These bones have been bruised, broken and cut.
These bones could never give up on me or you.
I used to wonder what it was like to be loved for me by you.

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS