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No Man's Land

I stood off to the side, against a locker, watching the halls move with the pulses of a thousand heartbeats walking next to each other. There was no flow to the movement, teenagers were coming from every crevice and going in every direction.
They traveled in packs, nerds with nerds, jocks with jocks, we were self-segregated. I guess it’s human nature, we gravitate towards the things we know. But I stood, alone, off in a corner by a locker. No one was like me, I had no pack to follow.
Maybe because I was quiet, or maybe because I smiled at things nobody else took the time to smile at. If they didn’t talk to me because I daydreamt in intervals that others call classes, I wouldn’t blame them. I didn’t know how to be beautiful, I was lost in the mirror, nothing fit together in the puzzle that was my complexion. I took tiny steps, and big breaths, that was weird too. I wasn’t a closet genius, but I wasn’t stupid, I was average in the most uncomfortable way.
So here I stand, counting all the things that make me different, that make me confused, that make me want to cry, maybe because I know I’m beautiful and it hurts that no one sees it, or because I know I might be hopeless. Here I stand, in a puddle of my personality, in between beautiful and broken. Here I stand, wiping away the tears I don’t know why I cry, in no man’s land.

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