(A poem I wrote for my English class)
I read a story about a black kitten
Dyed so deeply purple
That it penetrated his skin
And he will be purple for a long time.
He was also chewed on by a dog,
Carrying wounds as reminders
Of cruelty and neglect.
I thought about being bullied,
As I suffered most of my childhood
Being taunted and made fun of.
The abusers followed me throughout the school,
Until I found barely used places
To hide and dream of more pleasant things.
I was cut through the skin by bullying,
Abuse dyeing me as weird and a freak.
The cat and I share scars
And while I’m not dyed purple
Like him I carry the damage under my skin.
We were both scared and alone.
The cat was rescued and under care
And I have medication and therapy.
We both work to be more than our scars,
More than our purple skin.
© 2017 Valerie Hathaway