Don't listen to them.
Please.
They might tell you what I've done, but they'll never have the balls to say what they did to me.
None of your friends will ever admit they harassed, took advantage of me or even cheated on their girlfriend. None.
Nope. They'll just say I'm a slut.
Which, I guess I once was, for a couple of months. I also overdosed because I was that unhappy with myself. I cut my thighs, my fist touched the wall too many times, I know I ain't perfect.
But for you, for once since a long time ago, I finally feel like I don't need to please everyone. I just wanna please you. Please love me now, not for what I used to be 365 days ago. I'm not as bad as they say I am. I just keep on rubbing my forehead, not knowing what the fuck I should do to prove you that I'm not as fucked as they say... or at least, that's why I'm trying to believe.
I'm not perfect, I'm aware. But for you, I swear that I'm trying to be. I know my health condition, either mentally or physically, isn't easy for anyone... but that also includes me. I'm more sick of myself than all of you will ever be.
You bring me such warmth and joy, I swear last time I felt like this was five years ago and it's coming back every time we're in the car together, every time you hold my hand or kiss my neck. Every time I hug you it's a new breathe of fresh air, each time we kiss I have a little bit more faith towards myself and everything else.
I would only find it sad if you'd let my illness and the rumors decide who I am, even tho, they kind of define it a little bit.
Believe me, tired wrinkly eyes and sadness wasn't always part of my face. It just feels like each climb of stairs I walk, people push me three steps further so I'm always walking the same path, like I'm stuck. My hands didn't always shake, I didn't always flinched when a guy was showing affection towards me. Cause cuddling isn't dangerous, isn't it?
What if they add in drugs and alcohol? What if saying no isn't enough? What if he's grabbing my neck from the back and making sure I don't move so he can empty his balls and leave me alone, here?
What if I'm just scared you run away like all of them, even tho you promised not to?
You're so great to me and I just keep on being protective towards myself, making it seems like I don't trust you... I do. I'm just scared of people in general, but I know I shouldn't think you're a manipulative piece of shit like people before were. It's not your fault, of course, you can't know.
I also know that you've been hurt enough to do the same thing to me; we just need to know the other one isn't dangerous and doesn't have bad intentions.
It takes two people to have a conversation, not one.
But hey, they aren't aware of those endless nights crying, are they?
Believe me,
you're not responsible for my shell,
but you'll know how to open it if you think I'm worth it.
They might tell you what I've done, but they'll never have the balls to say what they did to me.
None of your friends will ever admit they harassed, took advantage of me or even cheated on their girlfriend. None.
Nope. They'll just say I'm a slut.
Which, I guess I once was, for a couple of months. I also overdosed because I was that unhappy with myself. I cut my thighs, my fist touched the wall too many times, I know I ain't perfect.
But for you, for once since a long time ago, I finally feel like I don't need to please everyone. I just wanna please you. Please love me now, not for what I used to be 365 days ago. I'm not as bad as they say I am. I just keep on rubbing my forehead, not knowing what the fuck I should do to prove you that I'm not as fucked as they say... or at least, that's why I'm trying to believe.
I'm not perfect, I'm aware. But for you, I swear that I'm trying to be. I know my health condition, either mentally or physically, isn't easy for anyone... but that also includes me. I'm more sick of myself than all of you will ever be.
You bring me such warmth and joy, I swear last time I felt like this was five years ago and it's coming back every time we're in the car together, every time you hold my hand or kiss my neck. Every time I hug you it's a new breathe of fresh air, each time we kiss I have a little bit more faith towards myself and everything else.
I would only find it sad if you'd let my illness and the rumors decide who I am, even tho, they kind of define it a little bit.
Believe me, tired wrinkly eyes and sadness wasn't always part of my face. It just feels like each climb of stairs I walk, people push me three steps further so I'm always walking the same path, like I'm stuck. My hands didn't always shake, I didn't always flinched when a guy was showing affection towards me. Cause cuddling isn't dangerous, isn't it?
What if they add in drugs and alcohol? What if saying no isn't enough? What if he's grabbing my neck from the back and making sure I don't move so he can empty his balls and leave me alone, here?
What if I'm just scared you run away like all of them, even tho you promised not to?
You're so great to me and I just keep on being protective towards myself, making it seems like I don't trust you... I do. I'm just scared of people in general, but I know I shouldn't think you're a manipulative piece of shit like people before were. It's not your fault, of course, you can't know.
I also know that you've been hurt enough to do the same thing to me; we just need to know the other one isn't dangerous and doesn't have bad intentions.
It takes two people to have a conversation, not one.
But hey, they aren't aware of those endless nights crying, are they?
Believe me,
you're not responsible for my shell,
but you'll know how to open it if you think I'm worth it.
