At first hesitant, with reluctance in mind
But with charm and a smile, convinced otherwise
"I'm not like the others"
That lie so overly used, yet you take it as if never said before
Again and again, you fall for that line
Just to be made a fool again
"Am I not good enough? Not as pretty as the other girls?
Do my flaws outnumber others? Is it me?"
So used to holding back tears, they seem to not exist
Maybe it's my fault once again,
for trusting another with a piece of me that was once called

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