Everything I am is not even part of what I can show to me.
Cause it’s never there and I can’t even share, what Ive tried to hide from me.
Something unloved, something unheard, something I can’t even see.
Hidden from me.
How can I believe, How can I believe you love me?
When I am who I am and I am who I am,
and I’m not even good enough for me.
Good enough for me.