When I was in Eighth grade,
A younger boy called me pretty,
But I did not believe him
Because when I was in eighth grade,
All the boys my age told me otherwise,
And I believed them,
Not because those boys mattered,
But because I thought I saw what they did
And when I was in eighth grade,
All the skinny girls who word makeup,
Were the ones called pretty,
And I wanted to be like them
So when I was in eighth grade,
I started to cover my face in makeup,
Because I thought it masked my mistakes,
And only showed my beauty,
While hiding my hideous pain
But when I was in eighth grade,
I did not understand that my size did not counteract my beauty,
Nor did I know that makeup was all you needed to be pretty,
But instead, all I needed was to believe in me.
