I'm content with living this way until I see people in love.
And think that I've never really known that.
You finally have the girl you always wished I could be.
But as a matter of fact, I could never be her.
I've been forgotten, No one has molded me into something precious.
I'm not pretty and little, I'm quite the mess.
And I would tell you about it, but I dont know where to start.
So I hide it away, beneath a heavy pile of silence,
and every part of me that's given up.
No comments:
Post a Comment