They tell me lies.

Every little thing anyone has ever said behind my back.

The good.

The bad.

Sure maybe I asked for it.

With my rolling eyes.

But soft spoken words.

They tell me what I truly think of myself.

Filled with insecurities.

And regrets.

Standing in front of the mirror.

I hear the whispers the strongest.

Hits me hard late at night.

Tells me to do this and do that.

That everyone’s just jealous.

My own projection.

I blow the wind in the other direction.

It always comes back in a rush.

How can something so gentle be so harsh?

Recognition turned to comparison.

Left with my tears.

And picked at skin.

Left to cover it all up.

And hide what I feel within.

They tell me lies.

And I listen.