I found suddenly I don't have a physics test I had been studying for. Weird.
This allowed me to post, about other strange things...

i grew up in the kingdom of suburbia
a land of
 white houses
 2 parents
 2.2 children
 leafs of flat construction paper that minivan moms tried to declare a lawn
 a home with black and white bricks
 1 single mother, two snowy white girls
a lawn that was more like the hair of a punk rocker after a show
 after a few drinks
after some time with the groupies
 and a wooden cow sprinkled on top
the world of cookie-cutter people found the cookie-cutter term for my not cookie-cutterness
not weird girl
weird blonde
   weird smile
      weird nerd
        weird dancer
           weird dresser
              weird mess-er
it was as if they had summed up my entire being into five letters and one syllable.
and of course, this story will continue as all of those in this genre do
i was bullied
my soul flung to the floor
and they would stomp and stomp
until they heard
                the satisfying crunch
echo through the crevices of their sneakers
                they who were the friction that eroded my skin
                                made the alleyway to my heart so simple
                                                so easy to enter and defile with graffiti
                                                                used bottles
                they were never normal
they were never the average snot nosed girl in some designer sweat suit
                never the average brown eyed child in two braids
                                never the boy with the buzz lightyear backpack
they were the girl with stepsiblings when divorce was a radio-active tumor
                they were the girl whose friends came and went like the rain
                                they were the black boy in the white shirt in the white school in the white country
 they were WEIRD
as if by tearing off my confidence they could use it to patch up theirs
now you’re about to hear a true story
and i’m warning you, it’s a tad weird
in the middle of 8th grade social studies
he performed his daily chant:
                                you are not normal.
and i said the right answer:
                                define normal.
he looked down at his charcoal hands
and starting repeating those words
three times at least
then he glanced up at me
and looked for the first time

after that he stopped
 the taunting
                and the teasing
                                the vicious crowd pleasing
and everytime anyone dared to say a word to me
he remembered that
you cant define normal
so you can label weird
and this world is unclear
and he told them to stay clear
because this girl knows things we don’t

that’s when i discovered i was going to be a poet
i was going to put words in the order they were meant to be
and even though they were said they would be things you could see
things that liberated
things that set you free
and be


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