you walk down the hallway
its either you're invisible
or people see you for the wrong reasons

you arrive early to school
just to avoid the crowd
just so you could hide

you sit in the library
during lunchtime
so they cannot find you

when will you
stand up for yourself
learn how to shove their opinions
back into their mouth
don't care what they think
point your ******* at them
and say "*******"
its your time to stand up
for *yourself

Amongst the crowd, I blaze it across and up
Down the middle, a mechanically knit hug
With its broken handle
And popping arm crossstiches
To fasten the shame
To hide the tears inside me
That have not evaporated

In my jacket, I am me
3XL and slowly dying
Of a death that no one knows
Or a change that could end the world's colds
No one knows because no one knows care

Eitherway, the fantasy *****
So for reality, I conform
And learn to hide
My curves that have been
Rolled against the mud I never wanted
Shot into the toilet that the water dwelled in stench
Bruised in the way of another but never for a child. Brutal for a teenager

Because love was tailor made
For someone else
Time was made to order
For the busy and no time for me
Because friends beat you up
For being a giant that doesnt fight back

Locked secrets
A past and a pension
Within my body
That I am willing
I am so wishing
To be a shadow
In my black jacket
A face not from the many
But being trampled on the floor
Yet phasing through
Like the timeless, like a ghost
Seldom gone but never present

Your "treatment of me is not a direct reflection of my value as a human being", so what is it?
Maybe it's because you're surrounded by people and still feel alone.
But it's probably because of your daddy issues.
You've forgotten what it was like to be respected by a man, so you went searching to fill the gaps;
But all you found were empty promises.
You got tempted along the way and somewhere you lost your self-esteem;
Self-Respect turned into Self-Hate, and your bitterness grew bigger and bigger.
You're losing more and more each day,
but you lost your innocence a long time ago so its okay.
Your daddy used to tell you that Respect was love;
But somewhere along the way you tried to replace it.
You confused yourself by thinking that Love was respect.
You've lost all respect for yourself,
and tried to tear me down so I'd take myself down too,
And I'm glad to say that I may be a stranger to love,
But I know respect.

So I'm here to tell you that you don't need a man to give you respect,
as long as you love yourself.
Not the kind of love you buy on a street corner,
or find in your bed,
But the kind that you feel in your heart,
and know in your head.

Birth.
Breathe.
First sight.
Exploring this world all through the night.

Young.
Small.
Innocent.
Oblivious to the world he's in.

Speak.
Laugh.
Learn to walk.
Knows nothing of how his peers will talk.

School.
Start.
Feels cursed.
Years go by and the words get worse.

Run.
Fear.
Completely alone.
His tears will be forever known.

Grown.
Old.
No threat.
But the words they said he'll never forget.

He was fat in the corner.
The walls stood straight to crest the ceiling in place.
The boy’s arches were eroded enough to roll him out his created abode.
But it stuck between the sharpness of its lines pin cushioned on his body.
It blocked its concrete sound.
It nailed his waist into the water of floor as if it was holding buoyancy.
The floor which was like an ocean hung his body to only sit and stay.  
This is where he would sit.
This is where he viewed his world.
With his Cable T.V., he viewed the world.
He became them in a sense of what they know.
Sometimes he was the sailor man saving the gal in the red turtleneck.
Sometimes he just wanted more than ****** snacks.
It was the static that came into it and the tremor of the popguns and bicycle punches.
His costume was the hand that drove into his pocket for yellow spheres of his personal favorite.

His fingers would unwrap the same world over and over again.
No matter how many copies.
They were in wrappers.
They were in silver lings of the stuff in what was known to stick and to sit on my palm like reflected sunsets.
These were in forgotten little notes to the odes of what was the turn of his tongue. He loved being sweet.
He loved to chew it ever so darling.
He crunched.
His mouth builds a castle.
To the eyes arrived in clouded visions coming from within.
As the teeth gnash off to the nectars and nips of sugar, butter, milk in *****, the crystals vanish.
They dazzled the eyes with images from the inside.
It was the way it took into him.
His cheeks became lambent as they were sagging off his face.  
In the motion was a peripheral point of the lips.
It would drag him into crave.
No more of waiting for it to melt.

The time was hung out to see the beat of his little heart.
He could have no more candy.
20 years later, he should have nothing more.
It was enough to make the scale rotate against zero.
But no one measured his content.
No one measured the happy in his heart.  
No one knew that what he wanted was just to taste the good.
He just wanted the tip of the tongue
To take him beyond a state of sitting and standing without really moving.
He wanted to walk on ice but float above its glass.
But he was going to die.
He would. He would eventually. They would say. Mother said.
Mother said this in her prim voice with all the promises of chocolate coated crisps in the world. He will choose to smile.
But here he is. He is still alive.
He is still rolling into the rears of his rounds.
He still loves what he is.
He still loves what he ate.
The choice of change is in his grip and so are his pockets.
They are still full of his old favorites.
He will take them when God takes him into his pockets.
He will be sweet.
He will be his own butterball.
He will be wrapped in what is 25 years.

"You're just an attention seeker, a lost and lonely child searching for a friend but your a freak! They don't want you, They hate you! Everyone views you as a ***** up in life." You say as you began throwing fistfuls of dirt in my face and pull my hair.

"Mommy! Mommy!" I cry, but you carry on and I watch as mom just simply closes the drapes.

Later as I lay battered and bruised Mommy comes up to me holding me and asking if I'm hurt, picking specks of dirt out of my hair.

Im just a boy
They like to call gay
Ive heard all the words
They say it everyday

I can't go anywhere
Without getting some stares
They whisper in ears
The pain I can't bare

Why can't I be normal
Be like all the rest
Why can't I be straight
I pray and protest

But the prayers do not work
For theres no one around
I wait for the day
To live in the ground

I try so hard to change
I don't like myself
This isn't fair
I search for help

I find a light
That guides my path
I start to wake up
I breathe and I laugh

I know who I am
I let it be known
The darkness has left
And my spirit has grown

I hold my head high
And my feet float off the floor
Push away the sadness
I once felt before

Ive found my true love
He's just like me
Perfect in all ways
We both share are glee

I accept who I am
Im never a fake
This is who I am
So give me a break

If gay is so wrong
Let these words be sung
Your important and loved

Gifted.
Admired.
Young.

It started when i was 12. the nights seemed shorter. the days were long. the school bells ring. all my wrongs seemed right. all my rights seemed wrong.
It started with weird. and escalate quickly. The tears started to come. and i believed it was fate. I was insecure. But they said they only saw beauty. to as far as the eye can see. but yet... they took my dignity. They took my self love. and locked it away. thats when it all started. i wasnt me.
i know im not the only kid who feels like this. Everyone has their bully. everyone feels low sometimes. But with the words the throw. sometime hits us and sometimes will miss.
She got laughed at for her wheight.
She soon thought eating was a mistake. People teased her for not eating. She sat alone in the empty seating. She thought she was alone.
Then there was boy. who stood alone. no one by his side. He thought about all the times he cried. His mother never wanted him. his dad soon left. He was put onto a different family tree.  No in his life stayed.  
Time flew into eighth grade. the names the call him never went away. They kept laughing and laughing and he did fade. He talked therapist; that made him strange. He got depression pills. And got wrapped in a tidal wave of a full suicidal. and then he got called popper.
Us kids were so different the built us our own jail. so hail mary full of grace. where were you when i needed you. But i dont go to bed. its all in my head. they say. instead of helping. they hurt. and in all this jail. we still have secrets. these walls are the only things that see us at at our weekest.
Then we think like this. we think we are nothing and that no one will ever love us cause we are freaks. we must try. We try to build the sun for that one person. but they reject us. We see only wrong, cause we will always be wrong in someones eyes
But when you hear these names you must stop hearing. turn off all the sound. and be alone. Remember its all lies. Youre eyes will be tearing you will feel space bound. and feel a lone.
And when they break youre heart. you must wrap in a cast. take a pen. sign it. sign it. saying they are wrong. They have to be wrong. cause they live in the past. focus on what youve done. They lie to youre face. when they call you a name. tell them they lie. at least try. cause the first in hating something, means you once loved them. you once saw the beauty. then theyd throw you away. But how can they hate someone. when all there is, is beauty.
To this day, kids are still being called names and i dont think it will ever stop. there will always be blame. there will always be harm. but youre always going to be able, to see the beauty.