December 17, 2007
By Cecily Lombard, Hartland, WI

I’m warm.
The sun is rising, light shines through.
Everything around me is peaceful.
When I awake, anxiety will set in.
Is hopeless what I am?
Am I even real?

Piercing noises awaken my body.
The briefest arbitration will compose my day.
This shirt? People will hate.
This shirt? People will approve.
Wait, will anyone even look?
And if they do, will they care?

A blaring bell sounds first period.
Being late will hide me from isolation.
Enter now? It’s too early.
Enter now? I’m perfectly late.
Wait, will anyone even notice?
And if they do, will they know why?

Screaming, yelling, talking and laughing emerge from the cafeteria.
Where I sit will define who I am.
These people? I’m not right.
These people? I don’t fit.
Wait, will anyone talk to me?
And if they don’t, am I invisible?

General chatter and discussion fills the classroom.
I want to talk, I want to participate.
These words? People will stare.
These words? People will judge.
Wait, will anyone really listen?
And if they do, will they hear?

Screeches and groans are heard from my front door.
The night falls and so do I.
Should I cry? I'm alone.
Should I cry? I have nothing.
Wait, am I strong?
And if I am, can I pull through?

I'm cold.
Will I ever get out of this inevitable circle?
Sun, moon. Sun, moon.
Out the window, hope shines through.
Stars sparkle, the moon shines.
I will do this, I will pull through.
I will be seen, I will be heard.
Hopeless no more, because I am real.

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