They were my names

written in ink 

my labels that were burned into me

for years.

Children would run in a panic 

for CAT has TOUCHED them

i have gotten them sick with my "disease."

I was an easy target,

MEOW at a 9 year old,

make her feel good about herself,

call her COW.

A child merely developed before her time 

i was not worse or different,

yet still segregated and discriminated.

i still cry 

because the cuts and bruses left behind 

bleed purple and ache to the touch.

do not mistake my demeanor with confidence 

its a mask i put on 

to hide whats inside 

i will not let you hurt me again,

any of you 

demon children 

that i see lurk the halls 

to this day 

with scowls on their faces 

and daggers pointed at me 

i will not let them stab me 

i am armour,

impenetrable 

your saber will bend at my strength 

you no longer can hurt me,

i am no longer your Miss Piggy.