I'm nothing to him, unless there's lace on my chest.
I'm nothing to him, unless he tells all the rest.
I'm nothing to him, but my body is a treasure.
But I am not my body, I am not something to measure.
I am not just a body, I am my soul.
You can't touch, cut or grope it.
I am something, but he doesn't see it.
Because at night I sit behind my phone screen
Wanting to cry and scream
Because all they ever see
Is my body and not me
And because of him, they see nothing
And now it's hard to see that I am something
That I am valid, valued, but really just on the verge
Of trying to converge
The hate I am given with the love i am supposed to supply
And with tears down my face, all I can do now is sigh
And pray to a god who I am certain isn't there, or at least anymore
After time i felt abandoned, stopped kneeling to pray on the floor
But now kneeling to please.
Because I am nothing to him, just something he can squeeze.
And on the lonely nights where i wish to forget
All that i did that leaves me with regret
I'm fighting an uphill battle, yet spiralling down simultaneously.
But the spiral ends here, the spiral ends now
I am worth more, and i will show them how
I am something.
