I could’ve loved myself, but I chose not to,
as there was nothing so lovable about me.
My petals were thorns in my garden,
Wasn’t adoring myself, there was no love.
I never smiled looking at the mirror,
as I looked like someone awful,
Meanwhile, I adored everybody unpleasant.
I wasn’t so much in love with myself,
As my hairs smelled like rose and woods,
They said to me it stinks,
I believed they did, without breathing in.
That’s what I did when I was sixteen,
I believed in everyone, who wasn’t me.