I am not one of them

I am not one of them,
I never was and I never will be,
I will not want to know,
When they decide to be nice to me.

All those times they laughed and sneered,
All those snide remarks,
All those weird side-long glances,
Left their own small marks.

Invisible to the untrained eye,
But they’re there all the same,
The scars and stripes left on my skin,
Are to them just one big game.

Bright red fountains,
On a disfigured leg,
Dripping, pouring, splashing,
For once to be popular is all I beg.

Just to be invisible,
Or out there in control,
I hate being the middle man,
I never feel whole.

I wish that I could explain,
Just how it hurts,
To be the one who’s funny to some,
And to others just a flirt.

They might think of me a slag,
But my friends all know,
The truth I wish to tell,
That I am not a ho.

These are the results of a life in shadow,
Of other peoples ignorance,
The times they laughed in my face,
And of my huge pretence.