I'm not you pretty
little cheerleader,
peppy, blue-eyed,
blonde, bubble gum.
I don't shoot the
winning basket
at every boring
game you play.
I was never your
homecoming queen,
I wasn't even
a runner up.
But I still see
just like you,
and what I see
disgusts me.
I see you cast
out what is
only different;
and I smell fear.
Fear of my dark
carefully painted
mask that somehow
does not hide me.
I wear my colors
proud of not only
who but also of
what I am.
A freak as you
call me, but then
I bleed just like
you, and I cry too.
You act as though
I am not human,
but I assure you,
I am more human than you.
I don't want your
borrowed throne,
your worthless crown.
I just don't want to be you.
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