How Things are

People tell us girls
You are a fragile little world
So bite your tongues
Or watch it all become undone

You'd think we were over
being on covers
of magazines
and going to all extremes
to make them like me

Instead we cower
Asleep in our beds
Watching ourselves fall
Like the towers
(without half the media and chaos)

And we're all dying
from trying
to not be
a perfect athlete
or the unperfect wannabe

Still all wishing that we were
not sacrificing
Living to stop the lying