I know you'll come in the night like a thief
Searching for the words and where to start.
Why is it you hate yourself so much, Amy Louise? Ever wake up one morning and find you're in love with yourself, and by the end of the day that fades.
I lose my beauty more with age, and realize it's possible the most physically beautiful days of my life may be behind me. I want to change, I'm so tired of being the same... and realize that I look the best the way I am, but that I'm not satisfied so I desire to change. Why can I take beautiful photographs of a mediocre girl? I realize, the dream I had of being the image of what I felt inside won't quite happen. The dream of being what society called beautiful, just never quite got there. I've got the specks of light in my eyes, but they'll always look brown. I can get highlights from the sun, but I'll always be a brunette. Fuck. I don't know if that makes any sense...
I hate my body more and more with time. Why?
I realized how easy it would be to become happy. I could become a part of where I am, but would it mean I'd lose what I am everywhere else? I remember a year ago feeling like I could disappear in Michigan and never be who I am in New York again. Just let that part of Amy fade away, and there was this odd feeling of power associated with it-- this concept that I could shut off my feelings for people if I desired, that I can harden myself and I know it. Do I really have the potential to be that cruel?
More makeup, and it makes me beautiful, but it's just more.. and more.
I could be happy. I could sleep, take care of myself. I could lose weight. I could smile. I could be grateful. I could pray again, because I stopped when life stopped being horrible. I noticed today I was secretly happy, but it's a well hidden secret... even to myself.
I feel like I'm scratching at myself from the inside. I could be a lot more than what I am, I could be a lot less.
But, that's the usual complaint, isn't it?
Why is it you hate yourself so much, Amy Louise? Ever wake up one morning and find you're in love with yourself, and by the end of the day that fades.
I lose my beauty more with age, and realize it's possible the most physically beautiful days of my life may be behind me. I want to change, I'm so tired of being the same... and realize that I look the best the way I am, but that I'm not satisfied so I desire to change. Why can I take beautiful photographs of a mediocre girl? I realize, the dream I had of being the image of what I felt inside won't quite happen. The dream of being what society called beautiful, just never quite got there. I've got the specks of light in my eyes, but they'll always look brown. I can get highlights from the sun, but I'll always be a brunette. Fuck. I don't know if that makes any sense...
I hate my body more and more with time. Why?
I realized how easy it would be to become happy. I could become a part of where I am, but would it mean I'd lose what I am everywhere else? I remember a year ago feeling like I could disappear in Michigan and never be who I am in New York again. Just let that part of Amy fade away, and there was this odd feeling of power associated with it-- this concept that I could shut off my feelings for people if I desired, that I can harden myself and I know it. Do I really have the potential to be that cruel?
More makeup, and it makes me beautiful, but it's just more.. and more.
I could be happy. I could sleep, take care of myself. I could lose weight. I could smile. I could be grateful. I could pray again, because I stopped when life stopped being horrible. I noticed today I was secretly happy, but it's a well hidden secret... even to myself.
I feel like I'm scratching at myself from the inside. I could be a lot more than what I am, I could be a lot less.
But, that's the usual complaint, isn't it?