I hang my head low,

every time I pass you,

holding my books close,

so when you hit them I don't loose.

Hair hiding my face,

hiding my tears,

hiding my eyes,

hiding me as I walk by.

A solid curtain against the insults,

the jabs,

and the shame,

making me feel,

like I'm naught but a game

My books,

full of life,

full of hope,

something to bury myself in,

to relax my thoughts,

to distract my mind,

away from you.

The pages smelling,

like fresh ink and parchment,

making me smile as I absorb the words with intent,

information filling me,

distracting my emotions away from the hurt,

away from the pain.

End of the day,

passing the hall,

hanging my head,

as you watch me fall.

Hearing your laugh,

tears in my eyes,

grabbing my books,

and down through the hall,

into a classroom,

and against the wall.

Head in my hands,

against my knees,

not holding back the tears in my eyes,

your cruel laughter,

in the front of my mind,

In my head,

rattling through my mind,

slicing through my heart,

why do you hate me so?

I've done nothing to you,

yet you wring me out,

and set me to dry.

Slicing through my emotions,

like they're made of butter,

slicing my heart,

with words like barbs,

glares like nails,

and laughs like glass.

why do you hate me so?

I've done nothing to you,

yet you wring me out,

and set me to dry.