Worthy

This poem is to myself.

I believe I will never be good enough,

could put on a fake smile but that will not make me tough.

I feel disappointment when I look into a mirror,

it points out all my flaws and all my fears.

I envision everyone yelling my insecurities

and constantly reminding me that I will never be worthy.

I become fuzzle when others compliment my imperfections,

whether it is about my body, hair, or other things that need corrections.

I wonder if they’re trustworthy and speaking the truth

or I'm going through a phase most go through in their youth.

I wish I could become more apathetic,

but my feelings somehow show and make me feel pathetic.

I desire to go through a school day without worry that people are talking,

to avoid their voices that leave me speed walking.

I ask myself why I could not have somber clear skin,

or why my thighs have chosen to be much rather thick than thin

These daily questions that I ask through the day,

but it will always leave my insecurities the same way,

So instead of dwelling on what could not be changed,

but I’ve learned to accept there’s only certain things changable in my range.