My insecurities

why do you hate me

maybe you’re right about me. maybe i am too loud. maybe i flirt too much.  maybe i dress too provocatively. maybe I’m just not good enough, pretty enough, tall enough, matured enough. maybe i am the whore you told your friends you thought i was. maybe i am that disgusting, that you wouldn’t even want to have the same name, let alone the same top as me. maybe i do need to be a little skinnier. maybe i need to be a little happier, always surrounded by people. maybe i need to stop celebrating my small boobs “ they make push up bras for a reason” “ no guy likes flat girls”. maybe i need to “suck it up” and come to college everyday like every other student. don’t crack the same joke every time i do attend  about me “ finally” attending college when you don’t know the struggle behind me waking up and dragging myself there in the first place. maybe I’m not that creative, and just wasting my parents money. maybe i need to realise that my anxiety is fake and is just in my head . maybe i am as dumb as you think i am. maybe i am useless. maybe i really am all of these things that you people have said about me. thats what you want though, right? me to know that I’m not perfect as if i don’t look in the mirror and see my cellulite, my stretch marks and dark circles out there taunting me. i war with my mind everyday. i let you get in my head and now its 2 against me. when the army in my head against me starts getting stronger i can’t help but wonder if i am strong enough.