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.