I Am Popular

The me you see is popular. Being known, being liked, being accepted. But being everything but yourself, they don't accept you. They accept the person you created. The person whose personality is suppose to fit in this box of artificial characteristics. It's hard to know the right direction because everybody looks up to you but where do you go for guidance? So in the confusion you let the real you die in silence. Being poison by the unrealistic thoughts of society. Your original friends ask what happened. You’re not that girl they use to dress up with, go over their house and have tea parties with. Scared of your reflection because you now mimic somebody you seem to dislike. It makes you sick to your stomach to even look at the site. Being popular comes with some perks, but those perks sometimes hurts. Don't let anyone define who you are, because having the best clothes, best house, or best car doesn't always matter in the world. Being the best you can be is the reason why I see all you as kings and queens. So in my final thought I don't need this or that to be popular. I don't need to change myself to fit in with what society has to "offer". In my eyes I see myself as only me and popular.