I look in the mirror and study what i see
all my imperfections are what i thought they'd be
not the best smile, not the greatest hair
deeply i keep starring imagining what i wish was there
why i didn't have colored eyes?
why the image of a pretty girl depended on your size
why people thought that by just one look
they thought they knew what you were about
like they were there with you to hear you cry and shout
for all those moments you felt you had to look a certain way
starving yourself to be pretty every god damn day
but even after that u keep looking in the mirror and never seem to like what you see
never seem to accomplish how you truly want to be
so as for today the mirror is going down
breaking, shattering forgetting every frown...
