Insecure

I hate looking down, I don’t like looking in mirrors. When I see my body I start to frown. These things on my chest, Unwanted I’ve become less accepting Of myself. Days go by, And I start to hate the rest. Hips, legs, thighs. All too feminine. Now there’s only two things I enjoy; My hair and my eyes. Looking at myself, I want to die. I hold it inside, Getting sadder each day. A cut here, Tell no one. Another cut there, Still nothing to say. Insecure, Hating the body I was born into. I hate the fat, I hate my chest. I hate my face, I hate what’s not there. I hide myself in my clothes, All too big. Just like me. I try to avoid the stare They all throw at me. I hate how I look, I hate how I walk. It’s all too girly. I want to be confident. But…. I hate how I sound When I talk. I hate who I’m supposed to be. I’m too insecure… Insecure… I don’t want to be a girl…