Baby, I'm not gonna be
What you want me to be
I'm gonna be what you need
I'm gonna act like I'm free

Like I'm free from you
Like I'm free from this
Like I'm free for you

Trust issues
It's better off this way
Confidence does not counts
On my dictionary, babe
But you don't care, you don't have time to hear
And neither do I

I'm starving
Would someone come and feed ME?
Feed me with life and mistery?
I just wanna feel alive
I wanna feel misery

I'm gonna
I'm gonna pretend
I'm gonna
I'm going to the end

Trust issues
It's better off this way
Confidence does not counts
On my dictionary, babe
But you don't care, you don't have time to hear
And neither do I

I'm scared
Oh boy, am I scaring you?
I said I was trouble, you chose not to walk away
Walk away, get rid of me
Before I get rid of you
Because baby, I'm gonna do
I'm gonna make myself cry
(And enjoy it)

Masochist
Masochist beauty
Will you be
Will you be my sadist

Not looking for the romantic type
Be mine for the night and then goodbye

Trust issues
It's better off this way
Confidence does not counts
On my dictionary, babe
But you don't care, you don't have time to hear
And neither do I

Without you
Without I'll be dead
But I'm
I'm already gone
So don't bother coming home
Because I'm hurting myself again
(And ejoying it)

You don't care and neither do I

I'm not one of those girls that tell the whole world about their whole story. I'm not one of those girls that falls in love in two seconds, I'm one of those girls that gets bored in two seconds. I'm the girl that wants a rough man instead of a romantic boy. I want a mistery. I became a mistery. My face is not like the map of the world, and my eyes will smile with my lips because I'm not even pretending anymore. I'm not even living to pretend.
I'm not one of those girls. So why the fuck people insist on trying to tell me about me, tell me wrong informations about my own life, when they don't know half of it?
"You're too critical". "You don't do anything for me." "Why don't you ever smile?"
I'm critical with myself, not you. I do ANYTHING for anyone, but myself. I'm smiling. I keep smiling. I keep suffering and that makes me smile. It proves me... That I'm alive. But you just don't seem to notice. You don't seem to care.

It's A Losing Battle

It's like everything I do reminds me of it. Not a him, not a her, not anything. I wish I could say there were voices on my head telling me I'm fat, telling me to throw up everything I eat or not to eat at all, but it's only me. Only me destroying me, only myself hating on myself.
It all started as a diet, it all started with just a cut, with just a taste for pain. But it ended up being masochism, madness, self harming for release, for simple pleasure. It ended up being a disease. The only things on my life I can't get rid of