I am a teenager.
I am miserable.
I stay up way too late
and put off my homework.
I find it easier to be best friends with myself
than with other people.
I crave affection
but am too afraid of commitment.
I lose sleep
over the internet and the demons inside me.
I would rather listen to the music inside my head
than the people screaming for my attention.
I eat too much
and don’t exercise enough.
I have opinions and beliefs
that don’t matter to anyone but myself.
I fake my happiness
so my parents don’t question me
when I’m not myself.
I lie to my friends
so they can feel better about themselves.
I paint my face everyday
so he doesn’t see my hideous imperfections.
I wear expensive clothing and buy the newest products
so that I can fit in.
I camp out in my room
so I don’t have to speak to anyone but myself.
I don’t stare too long at myself in the mirror
because of the ugly person I think I see staring back at me.
I give others my best advice,
but I won’t even take my own.
I constantly stare at my phone
just to avoid eye contact with that cute boy.
I fill my body with toxins
just so I can feel better about myself.
I get shut down
when I ask my mom if I can sit at the adult table at a family gathering.
I hate how society shuns us
if we like boys or girls
or because of our religious and political views
or who had the best album of the year.
I am a teenage
and I am miserable.