I am who you're not.


You see what you want me to see,

but yet you do not see what you're supposed to see.

I went home both days and nights,

sitting there, fighting my own fights.

No teacher, no staff, no parents; no one

fought not with me; only for me, after the deed was done.

The names, the texts, the tears 

that filled my head throughout the school years.


It was like what they did just needed to be forgotten,

as if it didn't leave me with a life full of words I was lost in.

They don't get in trouble, the staff just sat us down

As I shed my tears, they just frowned.

As if my feelings were the actual problem,

Like it should be an easily forgivable lump-sum..

But that's not the case. No, not at all. 

Maybe high school would be different if they weren't there at all. 





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