eerht-ytnewt | twenty-three

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•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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