Literature
Not my story.
Everyone assumes that I'm:
Spoiled rotten,
genius because my parents pressure me,
perfect,
happy,
alive.
They come to me for anything,
because I always here to listen.
And I will, because I care.
Yeah, I want to help you make it through another 20 years,
but I wanna make through a 20 days...
Please, see that I'm just a person.
I'm not perfect, or happy.
I'm not pressured into perfection by my parents,
but by myself,
because the world and my reflection are my worst enemies.
[You know my name, but not my story.]