"Sticks and stones
may break my bones
but words will
never hurt me."

Sticks and Stones
may break my bones
and leave a bruise,
that's tender.

But words themselves
and scars as well
now, *that's what
I'll remember.

A face
slick with tears.
A hand
thin with fear.
An eye
red with anger.
An attempt
to scream out at the world,
A string of symbols
woven together
made to conquer
the empty page.
A realization;
the letters
are small on the page,
vulnerable.
They may as well
not be there.
A sigh, a cry,
a pen dropped,
a door slammed.

just another
standard person.
same color
same school
same hair
same grades
same struggles.
If I were
to vanish,
and no one
noticed,
would my pain
still matter?

I reworked myself
so you would notice
my words, not my face.
Now you
remark the change
and stare all the more
closely.