I’ve heard them ask, “What’s on your face?”

I’ve been left with no one to embrace.

Family shouldn’t be the only one,

In a semi-new place, I shouldn’t be so alone.

I see people chattering, re-telling stories of their summer,

Everyone has someone, but no one cares about the newcomer.

Going against the imagination of an eight year old,

I never expected them to be this cold.

I missed it, and I missed it dearly,

It shows on my face very clearly.

I don’t belong here with people, who don’t care,

I wish I were with those who never stopped just to stare and glare.

I’ve always been told, “Nothing’s wrong with you”

But then why does no one try to come through?

Did I look like a monster? Probably,

Was it my fault? Maybe, I thought solemnly.

Did an accent make me a freak? Or was it my skin?

They all used to say it wasn’t a sin.

Then why all the comments,

Why make a joke out of a problem that someone has?

Today, my eczema is nearly gone,

I am no longer a black swan.

Six years is how long it took,

After two years, they stopped giving me the ‘look’.

But now, announcements of my achievements are made throughout the school,

I am no longer afraid of those who think that they are so ‘cool’.

I’m not the same girl, who had scars all over her body,

I am the newer version of her who doesn’t just read as a hobby.

I take a deep breath..

And walk in with my Head Held High.