I am happy with myself.
I just hate my body.
I am not self-conscious,
I just don't want anyone to look at me.
I love my appearance,
Just my nose is too thick,
My lips are too thin,
My legs are too big,
My breasts are too small.
No one ever influences how I see myself,
Except for the people I ask if I look ok,
And except for those commercials on TV.
Well maybe the magazines I read too,
Because everyone always looks prettier than me.
When will someone love me?
Whenever I get to that perfect weight, that perfect complexion.
It's not about my talents, ambitions,
No, the world Iive in considers my beauty to be my biggest asset
So I play along.
How else will I get anywhere in life?
Study hard, be at the top?
Or wear red lip stick and high heels for an interview, and
Flirt with my soon-to-be boss.
I am sure if I wear a mask,
Live in a façade,
I will be happy with myself.