It’s me under these puffy eyes
Under the skin that’s grown fat
Cold hearted; what are you made of
Frozen in ice?
It’s me under the spots on my cheeks
Inside these large jackets
Hiding my insecurities
Beautiful; can you see?
I’ll find myself again, again, again
Won’t look at my feet anymore
Straight into your eyes
Puff up my chest, won’t hide
Trim myself, and then you’ll see
If that’s what beautiful means to you, baby
You’ll find me, you’ll find me.
— Gunjan Sethi