Come September
The schoolyard filled with
children once again.
Even while they shrieked,
playing ball,
they could see me.
They had eyes like bullets–
a thousand pierced through
the wire fence.
I walked faster,
keeping my head down,
my mother's hand
pulling me toward
the backroom of her store
where I squatted on a box
for five years,
teaching myself math
and reading.
When I was eleven
mom finally sent me to school,
which didn’t erase
the freak in me.
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