Mocha-Skinned girl sitting in the corner of the classroom

In my own little world

With my thick white glasses on and my phone glued to my hand.

I never talk in class afraid the deepness of my voice will scare my peers

And I never speak unless spoken too.

I’m called the teacher's pet, the goody two shoes and the nerd behind my back when people think I’m not listening.

They believe I has high grades and a perfect home life.

But, that's far from the truth

In reality, I’m not perfect, not even close.

I suffer from depression, bipolar disorder, anxiety and horrid eyesight.

They say "You should be grateful to have the opportunity to attend an upper-class school" when I try to express myself.

They have taught me how to be quiet and how to hold my tongue.

I’m quiet as a mouse these days...not a peep heard from me

I feel trapped in my own mind

With nowhere to go

No one to run to

The only friends I seem to have are the voices in my head

Bickering back and forth

Making no sense

Wandering why I’m not dead already

It's hard to ignore the fact that they’re in my head

They feed off my sadness

So I try not to cry anymore

I calm them with words and music

It makes me smile when they’re calm

Because then I’ll feel normal for once

But, then I miss that feeling of being wanted by someone in a twisted way

That’s when I know I’m not normal at all.