Keep a straight face,

No reactions allowed.

Calm,

Collected,

Quiet;

Create a new me.

I sit there and smile and stare

And I want to scream because

I am a writer.

And I was raised to argue,

But look at all those girls over there.

Petite,

Peculiar,

Pretty;

Promises to myself that I can change.

I can be that.

Probably.

And I walk down hallways

Ashamed because I opened my mouth,

Ashamed because I dared to be more than them.

And I'm still ashamed.

And I blend into these walls best I can

To hide away my voice and existence.

I blend in because I can feel

The presence of a girl who once sat behind me in a class.

She follows me and asks me why I spoke my mind.

No one else ever did.

Why did I.

I blend in because I can hear

The yells of a group of boys who once told me I was worthless.

With them I stayed quiet because I was sure that what they said was true.

Then I couldn't speak when the word got out.

I know what I want to say to them now.

And I swear to myself that one day I'll stop talking

Or I'll talk at the right moments,

And it'll be great.

And I swore to myself

That this poem would be shorter.

Looking back,

I see a different girl,

And I know what her future holds.

But looking back,

I see this girl sobbing, telling me,

"Don't forget this feeling."

And I pity her,

Because she thinks this is love.

I know it's not, because I am me.

But I'm not her.