When I tell her about how messed up
Most of my girlfriends are,
Mama says, Don't talk to those girls.
Don't get too close, they're not right.
But Mama, we live in a world
Where no one's right in the head.
We live in a world smudged with imperfection
Like the kohl under our eyes.
Beautifully ambiguous, fearsome!
Mama, the 'good girls' that you approve of
Are really all broken, body and soul,
They just know how to fill their cracks
With borrowed stardust and smile.
Mama, we would trade our innocence,
That was robbed of us, all too soon,
For all the vanity in life;
And trust me, Mama, it hurt us more
To part with it, than it hurts you now
To see us like this.
Mama, we don't shine in the day
Because our radium hearts
Can only glow in the dark.
Would you have accepted them, Mama
If they were damsels in distress
Rather than being their own superhero?
Don't you know that no one
Would ever have kissed their pain away?
They still dance in the rain, Mama,
And stick their pink tongues out
In front of the mirror, awe in their eyes,
Raspberry ice lollies in their hands.
Mama, they still look for solace
Huddled inside their childhood blankets,
Inhaling deep, trying to find
The long lost fragrance of naivety,
And sigh their failures away.
For once, Mama, render the ones
Who damaged them, at fault;
It's not a crime to spread our wings, Mama,
It's only wrong to try to clip them.
The cape that billows behind them
Is inked heavily with transgressions
They've learned to embrace,
With pride, Mama, like battle scars.
Don't hate on them, Mama,
Just because they can't wash
The sins off them, as effortlessly as
You once washed the dirt off my broken dolls.