Not Me But Her
Please look at me and say something nice. But mean it. Don't just say it to get it over with. Please say that you like me. Not just in a friendship way. But don't just say it. Mean it.
I am tired of being just the friend. The friend to laugh with. The friend to talk to. The friend but never that girl. I am tired of being looked through, like I don't really exist. Like air. Only not that important. I am tired of being asked for my friends number. I am here and I feel too.
How can you look at me, smile at me just to look and smile at her? Or is it just me. Aren't you actually using me? Am I just in the way and you are trying to be polite?
Sometimes I feel like a sponge. Soaked full of killing thoughts. So full of them that I can't stand my own look in the mirror. That my face makes me sad and my body makes me cry. I see everything and I want to change everything. Not only on the outside but on the inside as well. I wanna scream but I don't.
And all that because you can't look at me the way you look at her. Really emancipated of me, isn't it? The strong independent woman shattered and broken by something so stupid. All the self-doubts because of you. No. Scratch that. Because of me. Why do I care if you like me or not? Why do I bother to compare myself to others to please you? I am a naive little person, thinking that changing myself would be the solution to everything. Changing is not the solution but the error. The error that leads to a software breakdown. Not everything is compatible with everything. It's not you. It's not him. It's life.
Song
I am tired of being just the friend. The friend to laugh with. The friend to talk to. The friend but never that girl. I am tired of being looked through, like I don't really exist. Like air. Only not that important. I am tired of being asked for my friends number. I am here and I feel too.
How can you look at me, smile at me just to look and smile at her? Or is it just me. Aren't you actually using me? Am I just in the way and you are trying to be polite?
Sometimes I feel like a sponge. Soaked full of killing thoughts. So full of them that I can't stand my own look in the mirror. That my face makes me sad and my body makes me cry. I see everything and I want to change everything. Not only on the outside but on the inside as well. I wanna scream but I don't.
And all that because you can't look at me the way you look at her. Really emancipated of me, isn't it? The strong independent woman shattered and broken by something so stupid. All the self-doubts because of you. No. Scratch that. Because of me. Why do I care if you like me or not? Why do I bother to compare myself to others to please you? I am a naive little person, thinking that changing myself would be the solution to everything. Changing is not the solution but the error. The error that leads to a software breakdown. Not everything is compatible with everything. It's not you. It's not him. It's life.
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