idbailey23

Even though I feel that I do not belong,
I feel that the world becomes easier.

Because I give myself to you,
When I belong with you it becomes easier.
I’m less afraid of myself 

It's the squeak of my winter boots,
As i walk down the hall it radiates, 
Its high pitch annoys the many.

But rather squeaky than soggy.

It's the awkward puffy appearance,
That stands out against the sneakers,

Somehow i've lived english,
Breathed words of love and sorrow.
The narration of my mind is one of a poem,
Comprehending the worlds actions in letters.

In a classroom full of words did she teach me how,

The white walls and white halls are listening;

I listen, they listen, you talk.
About stories of love, 
And their Hatred of stuff 
The bad things being done:

We hear you;