I walk around,
Avoiding the eyes that prosecute me.
I know what they’re saying,
but that isn’t who I am.
They don’t know the pain I’ve seen,
how many times I’ve cried myself to sleep.
They don’t care.
They taste the rumors,
and spit them out like fire,
burning any chance of normal.
standing at the fringes of life,
because that’s where they put me.