the zoo
By a.lesser.thing
- 458 reads
I was on the left side of the right room.
The walls were purple and your nails were gold,
and our bodies, for once, didn't get cold. It's a mold.
The bread was dead and your bed was level with your
head.
A tread. Our feet were hitting the path, a bath,
and for once, we thought we'd make it.
But we didn't.
In the halls, we hear calls.
Faggot. In the cafeteria, they'll
clear ya from their window shields, as if
you were a bug that happened to get on them.
Faggot. Queer. Their leers, sharp, and you have
wished various times to be the bark on a tree.
I can read your mind, and you're thinking, "I'd
like to be anything but me." How could that be?
I see your shoulders tense when the boys in the
back of the classroom mumble loudly, harshly, about
how you're a "fucking lesbian," and the people around
them laugh. I see you walk faster, clutching your
phone like a lifeline when the guys behind
you call you a shemale.
You don't speak up, because
you've learned harsher things, like how
they could pull out a knife, a gun, or rape you,
or take a baseball bat and bash your head in. And
you've learned that the people who say they're there
aren't there, because they side with their religion
more than they do their school responsibilities.
You're scared
and taught that
you aren't like
the people at school.
You're a caged animal
there for them to spit on.
This, us, all stuck on the left side
of the right room.
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Comments
'And you've learned that the
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Excellent comment
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Cause 28 became Clause 29
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