I feel this overwhelming desire to be perfect
Everything I do, everything I say, they respect
“Perfect doesn’t exist” they say, if not perfect
Then I am a defect

My heart aches before it’s been broken
It’s not been a day since I started trying
But the fear of falling or failing is trying
And I am tired, and I haven’t even tried

Every setback cuts like a personal attack
As if weakness searches for a crack, a gap
Settling like cement, weighing on my back
Find me in the bath, I failed to stay on track

So, I drown in would’ve, could’ve, should’ve
What I couldn’t do, what I should’ve done
And what I would’ve been, if I had not run