In My Shoes

In my eyes, I cannot see your pain.

Though you say it's wrote on your face
and engulfed in your tears, I cannot
acknowledge it.

Your anger is invisible to my heart
unless blatantly spoken to me.

And when you're offended or I'm inappropriate
I cannot tell, because to me, what I say is
normal, right?

But no.

In my shoes I am the kid bullied for being
socially awkward.

In my shoes I am the kid bullied for being
a 'faggot', a 'queer', or a 'dyke'.

In my shoes I am the kid that is cutting,
just so she might be able to feel the pain
she inflicts on others, unknowingly.

But no one can know the pain they inflict upon
me, because if I were to speak out, I'd be
vulnerable to more attacks.

I am that girl with Aspergers.
I am that girl who dates other girls.
I am that girl who always is smiling.

And I am that girl whose shoes will
never be walked in by another.