Talk About Me

I see you sitting with your back to me,
Craning your neck so you can see.
Your blatant disgust is hard to disguise,
As your ego is fed and increases in size.

Is it that obvious you don't like me?
Am i imagining, or does everyone see,
Your snide remarks and venom glare,
All you do is keep holding your stare.

What did i do to incur your wrath?
I sit and ponder, as i hear your laugh.
Was it something i said? did? wore?
I'm not a bitch, witch, skank or whore.

It must be something which i don't yet know,
As i hang my head in shame, and try to keep low.
Why do you talk about me that way?