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…
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