By Aria Webb
I’m an enigma:
“the mute girl,”
the girl who never speaks,
but has a voice larger than the moon
a lion in her lungs
Lunch was a purgatory,
my own
“social suicide.”
Every clueless smile a demon
that was out to get my blood,
and take my joy.
My hands on the table,
eyes roamed,
sat in my own awkward silence.
Voices carried on while I stayed
in a suffocating plastic bubble
zipped shut
So I could only hear muffled voices
And my own screaming thoughts
Within the walls I put up around myself,
I wished to be seen, to be loved for who I am,
But no one had seen
that side.
Over time, I’ve been getting over
it.
The fact that I don’t need anyone all the time
I’ve learned to better love myself
Because from within that bubble
I found who I am,
found my best self
shining brighter than any star,
than any city,
and I didn’t need anyone to shine their light
on me.
I have faith that this journey
will finish with a happy ending
Faith is my
middle name
after all
Maybe I’m not there yet,
but I can tell it’s coming
It’ll arrive softly,
no trumpets blaring,
no fanfare
no battle hero’s welcome
I won’t need those things
Hindsight will shed light
on the the happiness that grew
a flower in the darkness
but burst forth golden and new.
Because I found passion, and love,
I finally had someone I could depend on
more than anyone else, I had
me, myself
and I
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