Surrounded by these
strange collections
of debates against the world,
against myself.
Backed into a corner
by a assortment
of judgements and statements,
death and depression.
Pushed and shoved around
by this concept
that I need to be thinner,
I have to need to be beautiful.
Bombarded with dozens
of ideas planted inside my head,
shouting things at me,
things that make me cry.
You’re so ugly,
you need to lose weight.
How do you walk around
looking like that all day?
You’re such a slut,
I can’t believe people actually
talk to you,
maybe they are just forced to.
Maybe they feel bad for you.
Like you’re just some lost cause
and no one can save you.
Do you ever wonder why you have no boyfriend?
Do you ever wonder why
you resort to books instead of facing your fears?
Because you are weak,
you can be so easily destroyed.
Slapped and told
not to let people get to my head,
I’m amazing just the way I am,
here in the flesh.
Be confident, they say.
Don’t let others bring you down.
Everyone loves a happy person,
bursting with good vibes.
But, they never ever consider
that the person bringing us down
is really just hidden
within us.
We’re our own worst enemy.
Trapped inside
such a clouded perspective,
one side so filled with happiness
and the other just waiting
for you to fall apart.
