Self Made

She spends five hours getting ready Knowing all her hard work is for naught For by the time she gets to her locker she will be tripped Into a reality that feels a nightmare The names she can handle She has heard various versions her whole life What hurts the most are the way people stare As if she has worms in hair Some look her way in horror, some in wrath She shys away from everyone's path In class there is no reprieve, Her teachers ignore her hand for the answer Looking through her is worse than being glared at Invisible is miserable At lunch she sits alone Stomach to tight to eat Afraid she will have food and garbage thrown her way The bell signaling the end of school could not come a second sooner A rush to home she slams her bedroom door hard Shaking she knows deep within Is where self hate is born Beautiful and shy the kids at school whisper as she passes, Only she hears FREAK, Slut, Crazy. She can not bare to look in the mirror for she fears her own reflection. When she finally does peek in the glass All she can see is her low self extreme glaring back.