take all of me

I guess there's a point where we all feel tired.
Tired of putting up defenses, tired of taking shit, tired of being imperfect.
I am my own worst critic, especially when I look at my body through the eyes of a perfectionist.
I strive for perfection in my art, in my singing, in my music, in language - I strive to be the elite in my forte.
When my eyeliner application on one eye looks a teeny bit different from the other eye, I rub it off and start all over again.
And I do not step out of the house until it's more or less symmetric.

The most painful part is when I come home and decide to bathe.
I lock the toilet door and my hand pulls my top up.
And it reveals deep, white stretch marks that I silently gasp at everytime I look at them.
I pull down my jeans and I turn my body to the side and finger the stretch marks that line all the way to the back.
Then I sigh and I take a shower.

Don't come after me after I've slimmed down when you've never noticed me.
Don't take that as a bonus.
You love me now or you don't ever tell me you'll only be into me after I'm a Megan Fox lookalike.
No, I do not hook up.
Do you know what I hate?
I can turn somebody on but in the end he's just not into me.
And I'm like "fuck that".

Girl, someday you'll find him.
He'll look into your eyes and see rainbows and bright yellow electric bolts and unicorns shoot across his mind when he gazes into those very eyes.
He'll be your emotional, spiritual and mental support and you know what-
"what."
He's gonna want you as much as you want him.
"oh."

"my weaknesses are made perfect in Your strength"
"the greatest gift in all my life is loving You"
it's such a painful song to sing Lord.
sixteen and i'm feeling like i'm 99
i'm shitass tired