For years, I searched for the problem,
And it was inside me from the start.
I couldn't let go in time,
And it was wounding my heart.
If I look at it now,
All the efforts was from my side.
And I tried to be perfect,
Keeping my happiness aside.
In the end, I became an option,
But I wanted to be the choice.
So I finally deleted all my memories,
And started to raise my voice.
I don't want to be perfect now,
Rather be accepted with my flaws.
It is what makes me happy,
Not accepting it, is their loss.