eerht-ytnewt | twenty-three
•james dickinson•
it's like I don't exist
maybe I shouldn't
all I hear in the hallways are whispers when I walk past
all I see is people imitating me
all I get is made fun of for being myself
but one boy, grayson dolan, he doesn't make fun of me
even though his friends, his brother, does
he tells them to stop
but he never asked
if I was okay
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