Deviant

I sat by myself in the cafeteria of my new school

when a girl came up to me and offered me friendship. 

 

She was a social pariah and yet all I had. 

I accepted the hand she held out to me... 

until I realized what that meant.

 

To stand by her is to stand by her and only her

 

I was new. 

I wanted to fit in. 

I was tempted to reject kindness in exchange for the cold approval of the schoolyard queen. 

 

But then I realized I did not even know what friendship was.

It was swapping snacks and walking home and gossiping on the porch and ordering bubble tea and singing catchy songs in the cafeteria...

 

And I suppose my fear of being a deviant 

was unfounded.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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