Okay, so this is to Pink's Perfect. I absolutely love that song, but I have just censored it for FanFiction! I hope you guys enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own the song, or the characters.
Black hair.
Tangled, tossed in the wind.
Eyeliner heavy, smudged, disgusing those chocolate eyes.
Bad decisions, that's alright
Welcome to my silly life
Screams from the kitchen, her mother throwing a plate across the room.
Shouts from her father, his fist hitting the wall in frustration.
Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood
Miss 'No way, it's all good'
Clothes ripped, jeans torn off at the knee.
Tops revealing cleavage, covered with mesh material.
Chapped, unglossed lips.
Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel
Like you're less than
Less than perfect
Avoding eye contact.
Girls scorning, turning their noses up.
Boys rolling their eyes, too much trouble.
Scuffing her shoes.
Tripping over untied laces.
You're so mean, when you talk about yourself, you were wrong
Change the voices in your head, make them like you instead
Eyes downward in class.
Biro scribbling in the corner of the page.
Words appearing down the margin.
Rhythm appearing in her head.
Chased down all my demons
I've seen what you can do
Fingers gliding across the piano.
Sweet melody filling the room.
A broken, beautiful voice echoing off the walls.
Piercing blue eyes studying her from the doorway.
Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel
Like you're less than
Less than perfect
Smiles exchanged, tentative at first.
Mumbled words on her behalf.
Playing piano together
Fingers brushing against each other.
A blush on her cheeks.
A smile on his face.
Weeks pass.
Kisses shared, fumbling at first.
His hand brushing against the soft skin on her cheek.
The whole worlds scared
So I swallow the fear
Bags packed, car waiting outside.
Standing at the lounge door, staring at her parents.
They don't see her.
She leaves, getting in the car with him.
Hair still tangled, still black, still untamed.
Makeup still heavy, still smudgy, still dark.
He calls it beautiful.
Her beautiful mask.
Done looking for the critics, cause they're everywhere
They don't like my jeans, they don't get my hair
Holding the headphones against her ear.
The record producer studying her closely.
Her voice filtering through the microphone.
The room filled with her beautiful sound, the lyrics of her life.
A nod of approval.
She smiles, unable for the first time in her life to contain excitement.
He is still waiting for her outside.
She sprints toward him, her arms open.
He catches her, hugging her close.
Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel
Like you're less than
Less than perfect
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you're nothing
You are perfect
To me
Tell me what you think x