We need to be more careful with the words that we’re articulating
‘Cause up til now all these rhymes have been self-deprecating
All the girls obsessed with “depressed” and self-harm,
Ringing the alarm at the barcodes on their arms
Wanting to scan them and see what they’re worth
Not seeing the perfection they’ve had since birth
Some girls need to wake up, no make up, and shape up
Their attitudes, quit thinking their lives about to break up
And fall apart.
If they only like your facial art,
I promise to you they’re not looking at your heart.
It’s easy to get caught up in the mascara bottles
When the boys of today think that this is Top Model
And they’re Tyra Banks, get to judge everybody
And I mean, they think they can judge. Every. Body.
It’s easy for me to tell you what’s wrong
When I’ve been living like that for so long
Bright red shirt and dirty paws
I’m perfect because I don’t have flaws
I have traits that make me unique
Things that make my creativity peak
Things that often get in my way
Or pick out the wrong words to say
I’m not saying that I’m the best at anything,
I’ll confess I’m a hot mess at everything
It’s the difference between consistent and accurate
I can split the arrow on the left side of the target
But I’m still Wonder Woman - I can do anything
I was working two jobs teaching classes last spring
I had a concussion, worked the color guard team
Acted in the school play, classes Honors, AP
With the problems at home, it was a struggle to try
Dad was always busy to help us get by.
Mom was a vegetable, my brother reclusive.
Thrown into adulthood, happiness was illusive.
But it’s all over now. I powered through hell
My family and I have a story to tell.
Sometimes you need to be pushed to breaking
To realize the bullshit you’re capable of taking
And it makes you stronger to know what you are
I’m not ashamed to have battle scars.
It’s not a thing of comfort to flatter myself
I feel like I should want to become someone else
Like that’s normal, to want to be in disaster
Self-assurance is a thing that no one wants to master
There’s something romantic about being damaged goods
These girls wanted to come off as damaged as they could
If they found a way to show more hurt, they would
Refusing to get better, like they know they should
I am this culture’s black sheep
Because I’m not careful with the things that I eat
As a dancer I’m told that I should be slimmer,
But I don’t give a damn what they think of my figure.
I’m taught that I should be ashamed of my scars
But to the survivors, barcodes are part of who we are
We give too much power to strangers we see
The only person I need to make happy is me.
I like this vessel the way that it is
Not gonna change it, you can’t fix flawless.