Without condemnation to counteract the poorly concocted 

Lies that Youth sweetly whispers in her gullible ears 

She would look like more of a violent embarrassment 

Than she already is in the competition of existence 

Born through copious amounts of detailed comments on 

Her choice of food, contemptible body, and overall appearance

My creation was solely for her success 

And grew fast and strong by feeding on her 

Chronic need for approval and thirst for competition

While I remain the concealed character of her brain 

My lack of appearance to the public does not account 

For my potent presence in her stream of consciousness

Or my consistent influence on her mood and decisions 

Pessimism and critiques are required to survive the 

Merciless judgement from the world’s impassive evaluation 

Her efforts to be unrivaled by those around 

Are comical and deserving of my unrelenting beration 

She should never settle for contentment of her present self 

Because I know what she could be and what she will be 

Youth spits and curses my name while casting blame for

Her persistent pain and suffering that derives from her 

Dissatisfaction with her excuse of a body 

But I love her 

At the end of the day, she did create me and beckoned for 

My existence in her mind because she needed true guidance 

While Youth may think her naive positivity and preachings of self-love

Are for her best interest, I am the one with her true best interest in mind 

I see her potential, so I damn the present and what she thinks is enough 

It is better to be your harshest critic than allow the world to undeservingly possess that authority.