insecure

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|I still love you, you're beautiful|

I stress a lot.

Whether its about my art, my grades -- both.

Lately I've been feeling as if someone flipped a switch to turn back time and I'm in middle school again. I've been stressing about that the most.

I can once again feel their intense gazes on the back of my neck as I write.

They cackle and it strikes my heart like lightning.

I nervously run my fingers through my hair.

Another strike, internally I scream in agony.

I grip my hair tighter and clench my jaw.

Thunder booms in my ears and soon lightning follows not too far behind.

My nails are practically digging down into my scalp now.

I'm a mix of anger and embarrassment.

What did I do wrong this time?

Their laughter loops in my head, a horrible melody I cannot rid of.
Boom. Clap.

Over and over again.

Until I realize where I am.

I am no longer that person

but still I am insecure

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