I'M PRETTY IN PANIC
When I was sixteen, I was asked by a boy
If I liked poetry, and I said I did
A few weeks later I kissed him, he kissed me, on a beach
We decided on a star we would call ours
No matter how far apart it would guide us
But a tiny star is far too small and out of reach
You’re bound to lose sight of it, or it might fall down
The one thing I regret is not letting him see
All of the wonderful and scary, pretty scary parts of me
I’m pretty in panic
I’m cute when I cry
Why settle for one star
When you can reach for the sky
If practise makes perfect I’m bound for success
There’s not much I wouldn’t try at least once
Swim with sharks, walk through fire, dress pretty in pink
Since I was sixteen and up until today
I’ve kissed a few poetic boys as well as some plain
With all of them I’ve been sort of standing tiptoe on a brink
Either step would mean I had to choose a way
But I’d rather not know who’s wrong or who’s right
And if you choose all the stars you will get more light
And if you choose all the stars you will get more light
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