I was assigned to write a poem.
I'm going to be honest with you,
I have no idea what to write it about.
But you know what?
Whatever I write about will come from me.
Because I'm sick of people constantly putting words in my mouth.
As If what you have to say is more important than what I have to say.

And you know what?
I'm proud of my curly hair.
I don't care if you dont like it,
because I do and that’s what matters.
And I don't care about you calling me jabba the hutt.
Because your opinion of me is less relevant than the idea of the earth being flat.
And maybe I'm not a 100% comfortable with my body,
but I'm working with what I have,
and I'm trying to improve it instead of hurting it
and that for me is a win.
And I'm not ashamed of my anxiety,
because is another proof of the great things I can accomplish on my own.
Like proving you wrong on a harkness
even if I might stutter and shake.

You can't describe me from what you see
because I'm different from that.
I'm a living juxtaposition
what you see isn’t what there is.
I might seen weak in public.
But I know when I have to toughen up.
I might seen soft spoken and quiet,
but boy, how many times haven't I been told to shut up.
You can't just take one simple look at my direction
and say you know how I work.

Why is it that for you to feel better about yourself
you have to minimise others?
I feel pity for you.
Because deep down you know you say all those stuff to hide your own insecurities.
Thats your way to toughen up.
You know that from all those people you call friends,
only 4 won’t try to backstab you and take advantage of you.
I feel pity because you prefer to be surrounded by people that not-so-secretly dislike you
than with a few that do,
only for your image to stay impeccable.

And wanna know what’s the thing I feel the most proud about?
That you have never seen me shed a tear.
And no, Im not saying that I don’t cry.
I mean, have you listen to what others say about me?
I cry about three times a week.
but I don’t allow them to see what their words do to me.
Because I know I am better.
And no,
Im not saying crying means weakness.
but I don’t just sit there drowning in my own self-pity.
I keep going.
Because at the end of the day,
I know that you can call me stupid.
But I came here without knowing more than two sentences in English
yet I wasn't even held back in math.
My accent might be annoying,
but it doesn't stop me from doing a better work than you in English.
Because you can call me useless and an idiot
then again, who did you ask to help you study for history?
At the end of the day I know my own worth better than anyone else because I’m the only one that lives under my skin.

And we can keep playing this game where you insult me when I'm not looking
and I’m nice to you pretending I never heard you mocking me.
But one thing you can’t never call me is weak.
Because my issues aren’t easy to handle.
And even my own thoughts are toxic to myself.
You have no idea how scary it is to live in fear of your own mind.
Because when you mock me
is not just the anxiety that kicks in,
but also the depressive and self harming thoughts
and the self-hatred I have carved inside of me.
And through it all I still stand as tall as redwood tree.
And never show my weak side.