You've heard this before

that nobody's perfect, but

"perfect" is such a subjective word.

Tell me why you disregard "perfect"

so easily and say it's a waste of time

trying to "perfect" myself;

explain why I can't try everyday

to always be happy whenever I

look into my eyes. 

A boy has told me once,

his heart on his sleeve

that I was perfect and

I said no, but then he said

"perfection" is subjective;

the sad thing is

I know what he meant.

See the problem is

I wish I could see differently;

see myself from others' eyes

because what you can't see

makes you believe they're not there.

It's like the boogey man in your closet

except you see them as clearly

with your eyes closed as

they are wide open.

So forgive me when I say

I hate myself sometimes.

It's not the hatred for myself

for being who I am

it's the hatred for not being able

to accept myself for who I am so

I'm just going to keep trying

until one day

................

either I'll disappear or

give you that smile that

says yes,

I think I'm alright..yeah.

I see you one day

silent,

with clouds in your eyes,

and I want to

hug you because you seem so small

and alone

and give you a kiss

because your lips are cold and shivering.

I want you to lean on my shoulder and cry,

let the thunders roll and lightening crackle

the world is unfair, but

baby, haven't you pulled through?

I want to see you smile because

I know it would heal you quicker than

any band-aid;

make you laugh because

you need to block out what

the world is shouting to you.

Hey, look

I feel your pain and anger

I want to bandage it up but all I do is

just tell you everything will be ok

when I know they won't

Baby, all we have is hope

Because we all know that life has to go on

We choose to live and

keep the sad days cluttered in

the closet and turn the disco light on

and dance.

Our hearts numb from the pain,

and dizzy with make-believe ecstasy.

Heaven wants to wash away

what the world has done to us so,

let's throw away the umbrella and

dance in our rainboots.

Sometimes our hearts

have to be cut

so they can grow faster.

They're hitting and hurting

but baby, would you

shatter or

let the scars heal and harden?

I know they can't

get your essence because

I know your strength

and pardon my ego,

but I'm part of your essence.

So let the sky storm and let her

try to beat us down and

sweep us away

Please take my hand

and let's keep dancing.