I hate my anxiety.
I hate the fact that even just going to school can make me want scream.
Or throw up.
Or tear out my insides until they’re all gone and I will finally have a reason for an excused absence,
Because “not mentally well” is no excuse.
I hate the fact that just being next to you makes me want to curl up and cry
All because I tore you out of my life
But you didn’t even care,
So I can’t bear the awkwardness that might pursue
If I were to stand next to you.
I hate the fact that you’re completely perfect in every way.
And everyone absolutely loves you.
And they can’t even see me because I just stand in the shadows behind you.
I hate the fact that you hate that you’re oh-so awkward.
When I can barely have a conversation without wanting to throw…
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