I admit, and I'll be the first to say it:

I'm not the best-looking girl you'll ever meet. I've got bruises you can't see.

What I can tell you is you'll never meet a more beautiful soul. Conceited? Hardly. Overly insecure and constantly second guessing? That's more like it.

But momma didn't raise no fool. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's the color of my soul.

Somehow I make people smile when they're sad. I take the chances on bruised and beaten hearts. Ironically, I can't seem to get someone to do the same for me.

Well, I did. And maybe if I had amnesia I could forget about how much I need you. And then I wouldn't have to see you in my dreams and regret not having you.

I wake up and struggle with who I face in the mirror. Maybe I should have been more like her, I guess I should have been more like that.

Somewhere I let my pride go and faced the real women in the mirror. Her ways are not simple.

I get a little insecure still and even a little jealous. Jealous with good intentions. Anything worth getting jealous over is worth protecting.

My heart could consume the world with love. But it learned that it's best to put up a shield of ice. Yet, there's still that one person who melts it.

A lover, not a fighter. That's who I am. But don't get me wrong. I can still pack a punch.

The guys best friend and the girls enemy. It usually goes like that and I suppose that's what you get for growing up in a house of boys.

Honestly, I'd be more of a social butterfly. I really would, but it's so easy to see others true colors. So I think I'll keep myself safe and secluded instead.

It's not that I'm stuck up. It's not that I'm full of myself. Sarcastic? Yes. Crude humor? Girl, that's me. Hello.

Girls like me, I guess we just see things differently. We don't hate people, we're just tired of getting kicked when we're down.

Gosh dang it, girls like me are too unique. And we know it too! So why are we settling? Why are we giving up on our dreams, our passions, the ones we love?

Because. Girls like me keep giving away a piece of our heart to those who don't have any. What left do we have to give?

A sad story and a desperate plea. You can't have a heart like mine. Or can you?

"Its pulling at me, my desire to make you happy." - Touch, Josh Abbott Band