LOCKER
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Locker 1453.
I left a part of myself behind your door on the last day of seventh grade;
you wheezed
and sputtered when I opened you,
but I didn't mind; for you had become a strange sort of companion
TrappedNever was myself.
Always reminded
At my bare locker.Brand names were never
My thing.It never seemed to work.Popped collars and Coach
Everyday I walk down these halls terrified
I can feel the stares and read their lips
Calling me anything they can think of
Just to hurt me
My mind fools me
Making me think I'm strong enough to take it
