I’ll bet you think you’re clever,
pushing me around the way you do. It’s not exactly fair,
considering you’re bigger and much older than I am.

You ridicule, cackle in my face, and point out
every flaw that’s visible in by being,
some of them you just make up.
I’m too fat, too skinny,
too stupid, too intelligent,
too energetic, too mellow,
too positive, too negative,
too myself
for you to appreciate.

I make you feel strong when I’m weak, so you make me feel weak.
When you call me ugly, you feel a little prettier.
I know I shouldn’t let your awful observations get to me, but I
started to believe them with all my heart and being.
I thought

“Maybe I am
too fat, too skinny,
too stupid, too intelligent,
too energetic, too mellow,
too positive, too negative,
too myself
for anyone to value.
Maybe I can never be good enough for you to love me.”

But now I see I’ll never gain your approval.
You’re
too damaged,
too jealous,
too insecure,
too miserable,
too tarnished,
to ever see me in a better light.

You see your flaws, visible and made up,
And hate yourself even more than you hate me.
So please, go ahead and make yourself feel a little better on my expense.
I’m satisfied with the knowledge that you think much better of me
Than you do of yourself.

Why else would you shove and claw me down the way you do?