Tell them it’s not me.
Tell them it’s not me anymore.
Tell them I’m not quiet,
That I’m not shy,
That I’m the one they should adore.
Tell them they don’t know.
Tell them they don’t know what I’ve been through.
Tell them about my pain,
About my loss,
About the things that are true.
Tell them the reasons,
All the reasons.
Tell them reasons I was that way.
Tell them how I’ve changed,
How I’m better,
How I’m not like I was in past days.
Tell them how great I am.
Tell them of the greatness I’ve become.
Make them know who I am.
Make them listen.
Make them see what I’ve done.
I’m not the same girl.
Please. Just show them that’s not me!
I want to show them who I’ve become.
I want to show them who I will be.
Tell them to stop laughing.
Tell them to quit talking behind my back.
Tell them that I’m normal now,
That I speak their language,
That I’ve got my life on track.
Ask them why they’re still laughing.
Are they still picking on me?
Despite the things I’ve done?
Despite the things I’ve said?
Despite the new girl in the mirror that I see?
What did I do wrong?
Was it even me?
Why do I have to change?
Why can’t they just see me as I am?
What do I have to prove?
Why is my life a constant exam?
They’re still talking.
Why are they still talking?
What can I do to quiet them?
The harder I kick,
The faster I punch,
The louder I scream,
The more I’m condemned.
Why do I even care?
What significance are they to me?
They’re nothing special.
In fact, far from it.
Compared to them, I am royalty.
They should be crawling on their knees,
Kissing the very dirt on which I walk.
I shouldn’t have to suffer,
Shouldn’t even have to listen
to their trivial, negative talk.
How did the pawn’s opinion
become important to the queen?
As long as I’m enjoying my life,
Why in the world should I care how I’m seen?


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