written by: Dan Flore III
You hear them from the back of the bus
using profanity you’ve never heard
to describe the body of
the girl in Social Studies
you’re afraid to talk to.
And to stay at the head of the class,
they keep beating people up.
They come in huddles
to trap you in the bathroom-
A black mass with strange acne and cheap piercings,
they reek of Drakkar and CK One
With your back against the bathroom stall
You think of your mother’s face
when you left for school.
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