They say I'm perfect.
That everything I do is perfect.
They look in the mirror then at me,
and they say that I'm too perfect
to even exist.
the things I say or read or want,
they shower me with the word
But no one stands and thinks
that maybe I'm a little...
That maybe behind my perfect makeup
that there's something else...?
Something I hide?
Until you came along and used the word perfect
in a way no one has ever used it.
You said I'm a perfect lie.