I bet you can hear a whisper,
Deep inside your mind.
It tells You are not good enough,
That you need to try harder,
Be prettier,
Have better style,
Be the first,
Be the best.
This whisper, it's ruining us,
Tearing girls from themselves.
Personalities dying out, becoming extinct.
We are becoming identical.
Moving as one insecure mob.
Not daring to be different,
We can't be, for it's wrong.
We strive to please others.
We aren't living for ourselves,
Starving ourselves emotionally,
With this anorexia or the soul.
