She likes her tea a little bitter,
Her music a little too loud,
With the voices guttural and passionate:
A little bit ugly,
A lot like her.
She’s a little too decorative;
She dresses for someone else:
The confident girl she’d like to be.
But she’s trapped in herself,
Too shy and awkward for her own skin.
She’s a little too nice,
Because she needs you to like her.
She’s been rejected
A few more times than you could bear-
So pretend not to notice her broken smile.
She forgets a little too easily.
Its the talisman that kept her alive,
When she left her heart in places
A little too far from home,
Too far to keep in touch.
A little is not enough
To show cracks in a perfect facade.
That insouciant visage,
That mask of patience,
Can contain a little disquiet.