Look at you, sitting there,
always buried in your books,
like you think anyone cares what you’re thinking.
Stop raising your hand all the time.
We know you’re trying to show off.
Why do you always sit so straight?
Like you’re better than everyone.
Who even wears clothes like that?
Trying to get attention, aren’t you?
Pathetic.
Your laugh is too loud.
Your voice is too sharp.
Stop acting like your opinions matter.
Nobody asked you. Nobody cares.
You’re too quiet sometimes, too serious,
always staring like you know the answers
before anyone else can.
Why do you think you’re smart?
Arrogant. Bossy. Too confident.
Do you even hear yourself when you talk?
You’re dramatic. Overreacting. Emotional.
Everything you do is too much.
Too careless. Too slow. Too sharp.
Look at your hair. Your face. Your hands.
You’re disgusting. Weak. Clumsy.
Do you even notice how ridiculous you are?
You should smile more.
You should apologize more.
You should shrink, little girl,
or maybe disappear entirely.
Everywhere you go, everyone is watching.
Hallways, classrooms, cafeterias.
The teachers notice. The kids notice.
Every step you take is measured.
Every word is cataloged.
Every glance is judged.
You raise your hand in class,
answer a question correctly,
and someone laughs behind you.
“Show-off,” they whisper.
“Bossy.”
You feel the floor pull away a little.
The noose tightens a little more.
At lunch, the cafeteria feels like a courtroom.
Whispers, snickers, sideways glances.
You sit with your friends,
but it doesn’t matter.
Everyone notices the girl who dares to exist
on her own terms.
You try to be invisible.
You shrink in your chair.
You bite your tongue.
You write in your notebook instead.
Fire in the margins.
Strength in the words that can’t be seen.
The bell rings.
You fold your shoulders back.
Step outside.
The sun warms your back,
and you remember—
the quiet ones survive
not because the world stops shouting,
but because they keep moving anyway.
You are quiet.
You are careful.
You are underestimated.
But you are here.
And every insult, every whisper, every sideways glance cannot take that from you.
Mar 16
Mar 16, 2026 at 11:34 PM UTC
Look at you, sitting there,
always buried in your books,
like you think anyone cares what you’re thinking.
Stop raising your hand all the time.
We know you’re trying to show off.
Why do you always sit so straight?
Like you’re better than everyone.
Who even wears clothes like that?
Trying to get attention, aren’t you?
Pathetic.
Your laugh is too loud.
Your voice is too sharp.
Stop acting like your opinions matter.
Nobody asked you. Nobody cares.
You’re too quiet sometimes, too serious,
always staring like you know the answers
before anyone else can.
Why do you think you’re smart?
Arrogant. Bossy. Too confident.
Do you even hear yourself when you talk?
You’re dramatic. Overreacting. Emotional.
Everything you do is too much.
Too careless. Too slow. Too sharp.
Look at your hair. Your face. Your hands.
You’re disgusting. Weak. Clumsy.
Do you even notice how ridiculous you are?
You should smile more.
You should apologize more.
You should shrink, little girl,
or maybe disappear entirely.
Everywhere you go, everyone is watching.
Hallways, classrooms, cafeterias.
The teachers notice. The kids notice.
Every step you take is measured.
Every word is cataloged.
Every glance is judged.
You raise your hand in class,
answer a question correctly,
and someone laughs behind you.
“Show-off,” they whisper.
“Bossy.”
You feel the floor pull away a little.
The noose tightens a little more.
At lunch, the cafeteria feels like a courtroom.
Whispers, snickers, sideways glances.
You sit with your friends,
but it doesn’t matter.
Everyone notices the girl who dares to exist
on her own terms.
You try to be invisible.
You shrink in your chair.
You bite your tongue.
You write in your notebook instead.
Fire in the margins.
Strength in the words that can’t be seen.
The bell rings.
You fold your shoulders back.
Step outside.
The sun warms your back,
and you remember—
the quiet ones survive
not because the world stops shouting,
but because they keep moving anyway.
You are quiet.
You are careful.
You are underestimated.
But you are here.
And every insult, every whisper, every sideways glance cannot take that from you.