366 Poems: August 25th, 2016

Aches and Pains

It’s amazing that one

could hurt

this much,

and yet still

be so happy.


A Note to my Classmates

I’ve just grown tired of it. I know that some of you would understand how tiring playing charades can get.

I’m tired of you looking at me like I’m not normal.

And it’s not about race or religion or clothing or lifestyle or anything like that.

I’m tired of you thinking that I don’t have a voice.

You wouldn’t know how I used to have a lot of friends once. You wouldn’t know that I used to be the popular girl.

You wouldn’t ever think of asking me.

You wouldn’t know that I moved a year ago, and that I have trouble making friends.

I don’t want to be that popular girl anymore, but I don’t want to be looked at like I don’t exist.

I have good friends here. I have friends that talk to me and laugh with me and want to know about my life, but they’re the ones you calls strange and weird.

But there not. It’s strange and weird that you can’t look at them without the word “quiet” going through your mind. In truth, we are anything but quiet.

Today, in Social Studies, we were reading a story, and one of you called on me to read the last sentence.

I was a little tired and bored, so it took me a moment to realize I was called, and the fact that someone had acknowledged me.

It took me a moment, but I was going to read, but you just decided to keep on reading because you thought I didn’t here. You didn’t think that I had a voice.

I got a little angry, because I didn’t want to be ignored again. I told you guys, “I can read you know.” You looked a little surprised.

So I read one sentence; one simple sentence like I was supposed to; like everyone else had.

And you know what you did?

You clapped for me.

You clapped for me like I had never said a word in my entire life and I had spoken for the first time.

And I had tried to tell you that I could speak. I had tried to show you.

But I don’t think you ever listened.

You might have not thought about it, but that hurt me a little.

It hurt to think that you had never seen me as someone who could have a voice.

Anyone who reads this knows I have a voice.

I’m glad that some of my friends, my real friends, stopped your clapping.

I glad that there are still some nice people in this world.

I just want you to know one thing.


I am glad that I have real friends that know that.

I am sad that you were once my friends.