I walk down the hall before class

And they look away it seems.

"Werid emo girl" they say, not

So silently while snapping their gum.

They never make eye contact with me.

Why would they?

I tightly clutch my books

And I keep to myself in the endless

Sea of people.

"Werid, strange, emo girl" with

The pink and green hair.

The cheerleaders roll their eyes and

Talk about their new "Louis Vitton"

Glaning at me

For a second.

My eye makeup caked on

From yesterday

Seems to be burning my eyes a little

As i pass them quickly,

Wearing last year's sweater.

I enter the classroom, burning eyes down.

Quickly. Hoping for a seat in the back--

The cool girls laugh too loudly,

Flipping their hair.

Looking around to make sure the boys are watching.

I hate them.

So smug, their blonde hair all perfect.

Never wearing the same thing twice, while

They smile through the lies.

Dismissed.

I carry my vegetarian lunch to

A table where i can eat peacefully alone.

Write in my journal.

They whisper, but i hear them.

I hear eerything.

Field party on the weekend, and

Talk of hot boys and who is brining the beer.

Only the cool kids can come--

They glance my way, looking straight through.

Lunch half over and eating

Uncomfortably fast, so i can

Go to the bathroom.

A younger girl, with a shy smile,

Revealing her metal braces.

Looking directly.

Approaches my table to join.

"This seat is taken" I say,

Nervously twisting a green curl.

Then I roll my eyes at the pain

I see on the unexpected face.

"Werid" I sigh, not so silently.