Standing from across the room, I see how hard it is for you: to love, to smile, to laugh. You're constantly worrying about your hair, trying to make it look like it did when you left the bathroom. I see the way you keep covering your chest, hugging it. Nobody is paying attention to it, except you. I know you're emotional, everything about the way you behave is. You wanna be perfect, you expect everyone to like you. But when they don't, you use physical appearances to express the way it makes you feel: small, insecure. And there starts the emotional eating, the half-smile, the "I want to be invisible" act. Stop overthinking, even if you are perfect not everyone will like you. You own yourself, you owe yourself to be happy. Oh, please, won't you have some self esteem?
YOU ARE READING
numb.
Poetrya place to "unthink", to hide, clinging to your thoughts, melting your soul with mine.
