Short Stories and poems

Rise above

People say things

Those things are nice things but..

I can't help but getting pissed when I hear them

They say I'm pretty

And I say thank you

But I can't help but wonder why they think

My fat face is so cute

Or my ribs that you can see through my flesh

Or my acne

Or my jiggly thighs

Could ever be pretty

"You look so pretty in that picture!"

It took 3 filters and a "lean face" edit

No wonder you think I'm pretty,

I look under fed.

that lean face filter makes the real me feel ugly

And

I know I should delete it

But

If I don't,

At least fake me will be pretty.

"I envy you"

People say

And I say thanks

But I silently laugh at them

Because they want to look like a

chubby

Baby-faced

Acne-ridden teen

And scream at them because

They want to be like

A weak bitch

Who cries at the smallest things...

There they are.

The unspoken insecurities.

the ones not even my closest friends know about.

How I'm so shy and awkward and scared of the world that

I can't even tell the woman at the counter at panera what I want

Without feeling like hiding and crying in the bathroom and never coming out.

How I'm such a pushover that

People will ask me to do something

And I'll want to refuse, I really want to

But I utter out a quiet "yes" anyways and kick myself for it

For being so weak

I can't even tell someone that

I'm actually saving the seat they just sat in for a friend.

I told my mom I was shy and she said

"Your not shy"

Nothing else.

I laughed

Tell me what I am then mom?

What do you call someone who's so scared of the world and fears everything's

What do you call someone who can't even pronounce her own name when meeting a new person?

Outgoing?

Yeah, no.

Stop trying to deny the fact that your daughter isn't what you want her to be anymore.

Because

I'm sure as hell not going to try to please you anymore

Because that either means me getting so stressed I get depressed

Or you deciding it's still not good enough

And I'm done with that

With you

With everything

I may be shy

But I'm sure as hell not going to let anyone step on me any more

I may speak quiet

But to people who actually matter, my voice is loud and will be heard

I may not be pretty

But I'm sure as hell not going to let anyone tell me I'm not beautiful

I may be stuck below the popular, pretty girls, who use their bodies to win favors,

But my kind, the girls who think brains over booty is the way to go, will rise above.

And they will soar to limits you've never even thought of.