Tell me pretty little lies, whisper them in my ears so softly that I can’t feel the pressure behind your words. 

Tell me you love me and mean it, and I probably still won’t believe you. 

Tell me I’m pretty, though I know it’s deceit, for there’s nothing pretty about me to speak of. 

Tell me I’m beautiful, I’ll tell you yes, but only on the inside. 

Tell me pretty little lies so that I can pretend to be wanted for a while. 

Tell me you like the way my hips sway when I’m walking toward you. 

Tell me you love the way I do the things that I do. 

Tell me there’s beauty in everything, and I’ll tell you that’s a bell that doesn’t ring for me. 

Tell me pretty little lies, so discreet. 

Tell me the things I want to hear and sweep me off my feet. 

Tell me I’m kind, and I’ll tell you I’m not. 

Tell me I’m alive for a reason while I sit here and rot from root to bulb, like a flower in the winter long since forgotten. 

Tell me I’m worthy while I let my mind splinter into a thousand tiny fragments and lose who I am. 

Tell me I can, and I’ll show you I cannot, the thought of success crossing my mind, but unfortunately I was taught that I won’t. 

Tell me I’ll be happy, and I’ll tell you I don’t know what that’s like, unrecognizable to me. 

Tell me I’m sweet, and I’ll prove that I’m bitter with every word I say. 

Tell me the light of day shines upon me, and I’ll tell you the truth, that that could never be true. 

Tell me the darkness I harness inside me will fade away to dust and decay, and I’ll show you the deepest depth of my pain. 

Tell me my conscious is clear and pure, I’ll tell you the truth and how insecure I am in my beating heart. 

Tell me you never want to be apart, and I’ll give you every reason to want to be rid of me. 

Tell me pretty little lies in my ear, so soft and so low that only I can hear. 

Tell me I’m deserving of kindness and love, that you’ll show me this truth as I push and I shove you away, further and further every day until you’re on a ledge, wedged in between my darkness and your light. 

Tell me I am worthy of respect and good things, and I’ll tell you I’m not, and that this despair is all that life brings to me.

Tell me pretty little lies where our future is peaceful, and I’ll whisper to you that these lies are deceitful. 

Planting little seeds that grow in my mind and my heart and my soul so bold as to whisper reassurance to me. 

Tell me pretty little lies, and I’ll act so surprised when they fall through. 

Because even though I knew all along it was you, I know that you’ll tire of me soon. 

So tell me pretty little lies while you can, because I can assure you with all that I am that my heart and my mind will never believe, there is no relief for me here. 

Tell me pretty little lies, that you’ll help me carry this burden, when did it get so heavy? 

Tell me you love me as I hold you dear, and I’ll pretend for a moment that I’ll believe what I hear. 

Tell me pretty little lies, so that I may finally give in and accept them as truth, and begin to love myself too.