I am me.
You are you.
But she is her
and he is him.
The word weighs down on those around it.
Crushing every ounce of their individuality
until it has been replaced by a new word:
Fear of being different.
Fear of failure.
Fear of being looked down upon.
A young girl sits in the back of the room.
Ahead of her are girls who have been molded into one:
A boy sits at the park
and watches as every other boy his age is asked to play basketball.
He looks at his cheap white sneakers and knows he’s an outcast.
He has not conformed
but he wants to.
Be. An. Individual.
Be who you are.
Not the person the world wants you to be.