angsty, angsty, angsty.

Angsty, you're a stupid word.
You offer us the satisfaction of summing up how we feel without really understanding everything.
You claim to be a blanket definition of what it means to be a teen.
You epitomize blind conceit, careless convenience, and blatant ignorance.
Oh, I could enumerate your crimes, your monopolies over vocabulary, your insidious influence:
I hate your vowels, your consonants, every clumsy phoneme of your mere utterance,
your underlying existentialist meaning, your hoity-toity origins, your complicated emotions,
your ambiguous expectations, your tenuous reasoning, your pettiness, your self-absorption,
your suicidal tendencies, your parasitical behavior,
your limiting factors,
your relationship with Defeatism,
your pointless and detrimental existence.

I loathe you, yet the more I do the more I entangle myself in your web of deceit.
(and the more I lose myself)