Even the pretty are allowed to break

At school I laugh and joke around
at home I lie there on the ground
trying not to make a sound
as I cry a little harder.
No one knows that I'm covered in bruises,
and no those scratches aren't from a cat.
My life is not what everyone thinks;
even the pretty are allowed to break.

I'm consumed by this monster and it won't let me go,
but it doesn't want anyone to know.
A dark cloud follows me wherever I go
knowing that I have no home.
Sitting alone in the dark
is when all of the crying starts.
My life is not what everyone thinks;
even the pretty are allowed to break.

Dancing in a vision of my own demise
I make another mark on my thighs.
Look into the mirror and all I see if fat
But I don't step back.
I poke and prod and wish to be
anybody who isn't me.
I'm not as okay as everyone thinks;
even the pretty are allowed to break.