Stranger’s Manifesto

Entry 2

Every year it takes the teachers until winter break

To learn my name.

That’s why I call myself Stranger.

I am a stranger. To everyone.

Because no one knows me.

Or notices me.

Because I don’t act like the whiz or the dunce or the shit-talker or

the bully.

Because I listen.

Because I turn in homework.

Because I don’t draw demented pictures with guns and blood.

Or carve up my arms.

Or smell like weed or cloves or spice.

Or tweak around and pick at my skin.

Or tag or bang.

So they don’t see me either.

No one sees me.

The invisible dust parachute.

Just wait.

They will notice me soon.