if you can't be good enough for yourself
how will you ever suffice?
how do you live under your own skin
when those flesh & bones
also that heart that once shone
is as if, not of your own
why do you look at others & feel so much better
whilst you're with yourself you get oh so very bitter?
how do you live with your own skin
if you don't learn to love
those flesh & bones
and that heart, though forlorn
with its cracks and cuts and bruises true
because that's just who you are, through & through
& that is truly definitely something.
or would you rather be nothing, rather than something?