You think you're seeing me happy,
even when I smile.
You think you know me well,
but I've got more stories left to tell.
You think that the clothes I've chosen to wear, are only just my style.
But these clothes hide more pain than some people will ever know.
You think I'm skinny because I'm short.
And dammit short people can be fat too!
But truthfully, between you and me, I've stuck a finger down my throat way too many time to count.
And you'd think it'd help me to be touched, loved, appreciated
But I don't have the trust
to do that kind of stuff.

I cry on the inside.
And die a little every time.
When people assume that they know me through and through I feel I've lost my depth.
I have scars I can't always hide
Though they could have killed me anytime.
You people of society
too naïve to believe
what you've made of me.

Parasite