• When will I ever been enough?
    Are my hands not enough to be held?
    How many pairs will satisfy you?
    Can I not be the only girl you carry?
    Or is it okay to hold someone who is not me?

    The whispers feel like screams.
    They are all talking about me.
    Their smiles hold secrets I know nothing of.
    And I probably never will,
    Unless pictures are plastered in public.

    How many girls is enough?
    Were her hands softer to hold?
    Or how many did you hold?
    Those girls, were they lighter than me?
    Did they press their head to your chest too?

    You dance around the line,
    And sometimes I think it is blurred.
    But is there not a limit,
    To how much a heart can hurt...
    I guess I will find out on my own.

    Thank you for keeping me blind,
    I appreciate hearing whispers and seeing pictures.
    Ignore the tears, believe me, I am trying to smile.
    But what else do I do,
    When I feel like I am nothing to you?