i am so sick and tired of you playing my boys like that.
so fed up of you telling me i'm desperate.
so disgusted in you telling me i'm too flirty.
surfeited with your thoughts about me, telling me i'll never be good enough.
that your desire of the perfect girl in me would never satiate.
telling me i'm too plump, too deformed, too feebleminded.
why do i even bother trying ..?

and me. i'm sick of me.
tired of the evil thoughts that keep on attacking my decrepit heart.
had enough of failing to break my insecurities.
my fallibility that make me beautiful.
that you dont even seem to be able to see.
and, of me, feeble, fatigued, and nonchalant anymore of what my future sees.
so, tell me, will i never be beautiful?