Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

The fun in being broken.

Pretty faces and perfect bodies dancing all around,

The sweat on my face makes me glisten,

The numbness in my legs makes me feel alive,

The hand sliding up my back makes me burn inside.

Its all fun and games,

I’m just a girl having fun.

I slip into something more revealing,

Yet try to avoid the lurking eyes that I don’t want looking at my body.

I can feel myself being undressed in their eyes,

I can see that they want me, and I love to be wanted.

So instead of following my instincts, I follow the little voice inside of my head that has been poisoned with bottles and pills.

I follow that voice and it takes me to the lingering eyes.

And then the eyes that were undressing me become hands, and the hands become pain.

The pain feels good on my body, but my heart is screaming at me to stop.

This is not what I want, this is not what I came here for.

But what did I come here for? I basically asked for this.

I basically told them to touch me, I basically asked to be hurt.

Girls just want to have fun.

But since when has fun been defined by the clothes you wear and the men that take them off.

The ones who use you, and you let them. Because the pain is better than being forgotten.

Being hurt is the closest thing you’ve felt to love; so you embrace it.

Having fun and being hurt have become oh so similar.

Self-destruction looks good on you,

So you wear your brokenness on you like a flag,

A flag waving at all the wrong people, telling them you break you.

I’m just a girl, having fun.

But I’m still just a girl.