• "I'm different!"
    She would crow, as she put on more and more makeup,
    “I’m not like them. They’ll all the same.”
    And she would point to the girls, who wore more and more lipstick,
    as she put on more and more eyeliner,
    until she looked half dead
    as though she were staring at you with two black eyes
    or hadn’t slept for a week.
    And I would nod, and agree. Yes. She was different.

    “I’m unique”
    She’d insist, as she began to show more and more skin.
    “Look at them. They dress like sluts.”
    And she would point to the girls, who had tight shirts and jeans,
    as her shirts began to get lower and lower,
    until she was always cold
    because what was the point of dressing like that if you were just going to cover it up?
    And I would nod, and agree. Yes. She was different.

    “I’m one of a kind.”
    She whispered to me, as she slid up her glove, to reveal a tattoo,
    she’d given herself with a knife and ink.
    “How stupid are they? With all of their piercings.”
    And she’d point to the girls, with their snake bites and nose piercings,
    As her wrist swelled, and turned red,
    And I started to nod and agree,
    but I didn’t. Because really, she was just the
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