I knew it wouldn’t be good.
I knew it wouldn’t be nice.
I expected the heartless stares,
and comments laced with ice.
You know I’m doing well,
as well as I can do.
So why do you talk so mean,
even when I’m not talking to you?
They’ll never understand,
however they’ll surely assume.
I’m not the same as before.
I can’t rewind and hit resume.
Please don’t shower me with glances.
Please don’t touch my skin.
Please don’t comment on my looks;
That’s no way to begin.
