I’m the quiet girl that you ignore, the one who gets her work done on time, and who is always kind.
You see me, but you know nothing about me.
You probably think I know nothing about you, but it’s quite the contrary.
I know ALL of your dirty little secrets. I know things you’d never know I knew because I’ve always been invisible; hidden in the background of your conversations.
I know you, but you do not know me. And so, I write.
I write in hopes that someone will finally hear me. I write because I want you to know the things I know;
So that you know I hear your stories, your pain, that I am here.
To the eighth grade girl on the bus who acts so tuff, who is beaten by her father,
I hear your cries for help.
For the girl who lost her virginity to a boy or a man who pretended to care, I am here to dry your tears.
For the young black man born in the ghetto,
Trying to prove that where you come from does not define you,
Let me help you achieve your goal. Let me be your teacher and your friend.
So why do I write?
So YOUR story can be told.
I write so you understand that I have arms, ready hold you.
I write so that you know you are beautiful, so you know you are loved.
I write in hopes to inspire you, to pick up a pen and write down the WONDERFUL story,
That is YOU.