Talking To Me In Third Person Plural

 

It basically hits me again

The fact that acceptance comes from within

And not from anyone else in the room

And everything it is that one’s striving for

Is in the end for themselves

Even though it’s in the name of someone else

And the thought whether somebody is good

Or bad, or ugly

Is for themselves to believe

And nobody can change that belief

But if somebody is starting on a bad basis

Already worthless before they can have value

Already giving up before the fight begins

Then it’s hard to convince

That they have value at all

Not because they don’t have any

But because no matter what you tell them

They believe they’re still worthless

Though you see it differently yourself

And you want it so bad that they see it

But if it’s always the same moral values

That they keep on repeating in their head

The same bullying words, the same shame

Then no matter how good they actually are

They will only see flaws instead of beauty

And moreover if they’re living in fear

The fear of judgement or abandonment

Or hearing evil things said to them

The things they’re so used to hearing

It’ll take so much effort to get out of it

As they didn’t know any better

As they’ve been so used to living this way

To get backlashes for anything they do

As they’re trying hard to belong but rejected

Or trying hard to feel good but neglected

And others don’t see their struggle

Because they don’t show it to the world

But it’s a constant battle inside their mind

And the easiest way out is always to give up

Because fighting feels like a waste of time

And changes won’t bring real changes

Because the real change is in the mind

But they’re too broken to even believe in good

Of themselves, of others, of mankind

That there is still kindness in this world

Regardless of how long they’ve been struggling

Of how long they’ve been bullied

Of how long they’ve been feeling worthless

That it is not always how they think it’ll turn out

That they don’t always have to think negatively

Of worst case scenarios, of black and white

Because, how would they know if it’s gonna be okay?

How would they see that things are alright?

And your eyes are not their eyes

And your mind is not their mind

They can think about something as something else

As you might think it is

And you can think about something as something else

And it could be that they are, all in all, good enough

And no matter which mirror they’re staring at

They look all the same, as good as yesterday and before

And they would ask themselves

“What is wrong with me?“

And you will try to answer this or that

But it will only matter to them

If they can tell themselves

“Nothing.“

Because there’s nothing wrong about them

Or how they look

Or how they present themselves

No, there’s nothing wrong

But if you’re waiting for me to mention something

No, I’m not gonna mention anything

Because it’s true, there’s nothing wrong about you.