You see their collarbones and hipbones, their plastered beauty.
The demons have reawoken up in your head, telling you that your dreams are dead.
The lipstick on their lips, the boys chasing their hips.
The scars from a distant past have reopened.
They can find true love and friends, while you are left alone.
They can do things that you can't.
Why can't you be pretty?
Maybe it's because you're destined to be left alone.
No one will love you except yourself.
Don't starve yourself in search for perfection.
For, if you do, you'll die.
