It’s weird being a teenager

I feel like I’m not doing it right

It’s nothing like what I’ve heard

I don’t feel out of place

I’m not awkward

I’m not struggling

Im not gasping for breath

Like they said I would be

It’s weird being a teenager

Because I don’t think I really count as one

I’m 15

I’m 12

I’m 13

I’m 17

I’m 23

I’m 15

Is age dysmorphia a thing?

I’m so mature when I need to be

I’m so young when I feel safe

I don’t know how I really act

I don’t know who I really am

I know exactly who I am

I have the confidence of an Olympian

The body of a model

The face of a goddess

Stop

That’s too cocky

Too confident

Why is confidence bad?

Just because no one around me is confident

I’m not aloud to be either?

But that’s insulting

To me

To them

Its okay to love myself

But I need to do it quietly

Otherwise someone might feel bad

I feel bad

I lied to you

I’m not confident

Every time I look in a mirror

I want to be different

Skinnier

Curvier

Taller

Shorter

Smarter

Dumber

I want to be everything

I’m so tired of being everything

I’m exhausted

I work

And work

And work

And work

And it never gets easier

It never feels lighter

But it’s so easy

So mundane

That I really shouldn’t be complaining

I’m only 15

I’m still just a kid

I’m 15

I’m an adult now

I want freedom

I want guidance

I want someone to tell me what’s wrong with me

There’s nothing wrong with me

I’m perfect

I’m loved

I’m funny

I’m pretty

I’m smart

Why would I be upset?

If I could write a letter to my teenage self

I don’t know if it would go to the future

Or the past

Maybe it would end up in my mailbox in a week

I don’t know

I don’t know anything

I know too much

I need to know more

I’m tired of the weight of knowledge

I like my life

I hate the world

How old am I?

Am I really a teenager?

Am I real?

At least I look pretty when I suffer