She used to fiddle with her hair
in physics lessons,
and smooth her skirt,
so self-conscious.
(It covered her knees now;
before, barely her briefs).
And that bright peroxide blonde
was knotted and neglected
and fading into
mouse.

Her arrogance-those hard eyes-
had died
and she'd turned victim.
The tough-girl turquoise curses
scrawled
on skinny ribs and shoulders-
the cause of mockery
amongst us
who'd feared her.

She walks to school alone.