You want me to be something I’m not.
Then you tell me you love me the way I am,
but that’s not me, I’m not who you want me to be.
I’m pretending and hoping this shell will make you happy.

I’ve never felt right in my own skin,
but somehow I think you knew that;
you used that, to make me who you wanted,
but what’s the point if it’s all a show?

Thank you for pointing out my every flaw,
as if I don’t know them all by heart at this point.
Please don’t tell me it’s for my own good.
You can control me but you can’t make me believe you.

I don’t think you understand just what you’ve done.
I lost myself somewhere when I met you.
Now I have to start from scratch, and you’re not helping.
I can’t think with you always breathing down my neck.

I wish I could tell you to leave me alone
but we both know that won’t last
so while you’re here just take a step back
you can think of all the things you’d like to change
about yourself.