I don't know how love I can take this....

I look in the mirror at this face I can't stand. I lift my shirt to find a mostly flat stomach and its not enough. I look at myself in such disgust and I can't stand it. I look down at my thighs and I'm repulsed by it size if on anyone else I wouldn't care. But on me it brings a knot to my stomach. How can I be a slut when I can't even catch the eyes of a man? How vain I can be and yet you still see me as humble. I'm a terrible thing I really am. I am a bad act waiting to happen and a bad influence that happened out of shear luck. Luck may not be the right word but it works for now. I want to be alone but then I have a hatred of being alone. Because I sit here and see how terrible I am. And my parents aren't shy to point out all that is wrong with me. I never seem to do enough and always seem to do whats wrong. How can a flower grow if its deprived of sunlight. Those shallow moments you decide to tell me how proud you are of me you follow it up with all that I'm doing wrong and how so much better I could be if I weren't me. I get it I know I'm a lazy slut in your eyes but just because I'm living my summer out alone because a lack of car and lots of friends doesn't mean you should tear me down more. Because one day...ONE DAY I WON'T BE ABLE TO TAKE IT ANYMORE AND I'LL BE DEAD...