I'm not the shy one. 

I'm not silent.

and I only sat at the back of the class

that day because I was late. 

and I didn't speak

because you never asked me,

because you thought it was kind 

to be quite

around the shy one. 

Well, I'm not the shy one.

When I did speak,

I told you how that story we read made think of home

how it kept me grinning while I mopped the floor at my second job

Somtimes I'm quiet because I get three hours of sleep 

so I'm trying to keep to myself

because I'm empty.

But even then I'm not the shy one.

Before our private meeting

I stood outside your office with my stomach in my hands

fiddling with an imaginary paperclip

hoping to myself that you wouldn't say anything bad about my writing.

When you invited me in you asked me about my dreams 

like you would ask about the weather.

I was out of your office in five minutes.

You smiled as I left

like your brevity had spared me. 

Heaven forbid you should talk to the shy one.

I want you to know

I don't hate you.

I don't blame you for thinking you're helping me out.

Every day in every classroom

people like me are ignored 

out of kindness.

You confuse our silence with not wanting to speak 

while we wait patiently for you to look at us, 

for just one second,

like we have something to say

that you want to hear.