Bully me

By Sarah Giles

Why do you think I am so different from you?

My pain and my failings are no different to you.

Why do you think I don’t feel what you do?

The rejection and depression it haunts me too.

I think I must be the one broken. I am no good. I am provoking

the words and the acts that are committed against me

the hatred, the sneers and the food thrown and wasted.

Something about me set off their alarms,

my appearance, my opinions, my simple existence.

It insults their senses and I deserve to be punished

because being me has apparently tarnished

their school, their image, their search for acceptance

is ruined by my lack of interest in fitting in

sitting in or letting their hatred in.

They want to control and manipulate how I live.

I won’t take the bait, and it must frustrate

them because they try harder and harder

to give me an anxiety disorder that will weaken me

and then they will have beaten me.


I walk through those halls every day

and their insults try to suffocate

but I let them crumble like dust into an ashtray

because I won’t be led astray

from what I know I am worth.

They have made my life hell on earth

but I only try harder, because their jibes

they get sharper and I must get smarter

so that I can leave this school.

Before you know it I’ll be in Istanbul

and they’ll be cleaning up their own drool when

they see me build my life like a power tool and

they’ll still be watching me like fools.


Why do you think I am so different from you?

I am better, I am stronger and you will never breakthrough

because my skin is so thick, and my life is so rich

and I am going to do things that will make you regret

treating me, treating everyone one like me like shit

you will never hurt us, because we’re gonna make it.


Image by Andrew Neel.