From the 11th grade me
The teasing never ceased...
I still couldn't trust anyone.
I started building a harder shell.
I started to close myself to everyone.
I felt I was going to come apart.
I started Cross Country to get rid of the anger.
It barely helped, but it was the only thing I could do.
No one knew how hurt I was.
I suffered in the background.
No one understood me, not even myself.
After one meet I ran an opponent called me a faggot
for beating him in the race.
The officials never caught it to disqualify him.
I cried after that happened and the assistant coach
came over and hugged me.
Even though she thought it was about the race, it was still comforting.
The rest of the year, I still couldn't go down
the hall without hearing slurs of hatred.
I just kept chugging along because I dreamt of a life
outside of that Hell's four walls.
I escaped yet another year.
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