It's how I was born.
I wasn't given a choice.
Would you like me to hide it?
Should I somehow cover it up?
If you blame me for my blessings
then I'll blame you for your curse.
Your heart of stone
and your crooked fucking teeth.
I know it's your insecurities and your doubt,
not just your cruel nature.
So I don't judge you
and I won't start to.
But my heart is not made of stone
and my blessings are not a shield,
still I'll smile brighter and I'll keep fighting,
because that's the only thing you can't take from me.
Someday when you've grown up
and you're looking back and you want to be proud,
you'll think of the hurt and all your words,
for the sake of somewhere to belong.
You blame me for my blessings
so I pity you for your curse.
Your heart of stone
and your crooked fucking teeth.
