Walking down the street the other day,

I heard people talking.

They were looking at me.

At my black hoodie,

my black nails,

and my lack of makeup.

They were joking among themselves.

They were not talking nice words.

Or being careful.

I'm sure they'll forget about me once they get home,

but I'll never forget about them.

Or their words.

I have a good memory, you see.

sometimes I find it hard to forget about stuff.

Stuff that I don't need.

But, you see...

what I want you to know...

is that the best part about people like them,

is that they allow me to meet,

people like yourself.

--Don't feel bad about what happened on P.E.

Kefi.