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Anonymous Freak Apr 2020
Two nights in a row
I came home to the panicked
Flapping of wings
In the garage.

A bird,
Crying and flying
Circling the garage ceiling,
With the door

I picked up a mop
Hanging on the wall,
Brandished it like a saber,
And ran in circles around the car
Trying to convince
The sparrow
That there was
A way of escape.

In circles,
And all you have to do
Is leave.
Anonymous Freak Apr 2020
This is a message
To the me
That has been left
Switched to “on”
For what feels like
Too long.

The me
Who’s held a lot in lately,
And is afraid to release.

The me
With the noisy engine
Left running.

The me
Who is frustrated and tired,
But tries not to show it.

To the me
With the circuits whirring,
And the fan buzzing,
Yet still too hot to the touch
From being “on”
For longer than ever before.

The me,
Who’s head and heart
Are heavy,
Who sometimes feels ready
To give up.
But doesn’t.

The version of myself
Who’s smiled more
Than she wanted to,
And made more small talk
Than she thought
She could stand.

The me
Who doesn’t know
What she’s doing,
But is trying to keep
From looking too bothered by it.

To the me
Who’s been “on”
For what what feels like
too long,
Who’s batteries are drained
And doesn’t know how
To recharge.

You’re doing okay,
And I’m proud of you
Even if you’re tired.
Anonymous Freak Mar 2020
People do talk,
And when they talk,
They ask me why I bother with you.

Because it stings
When I walk away.

My siblings,
Looking so far
Down their noses
The rest of us
Look small and insignificant.

I learned a very important
When I almost succeeded
In committing suicide.

Suicide wasn’t about how I felt,
It was about how terribly uncomfortable
The attempt made everyone else.
How utterly inconvenient.

I lack finesse
And social grace,
I’m not particularly smart,
Or pretty
Or interesting,
And that makes me
For them.

I looked in the mirror
Last night
And made a detailed list
Of all the things I wanted to yell
At each
And every one
Of them.

Then it occurred to me,
Something amazing,
Fantastic even...
Something I should’ve understood
When I tried to tell people
I had been *****.


I will destroy myself
In a million ways
To take care of people
Who won’t care about me.

I can throw love,
At them,
But nothing matters.

I told people I would’ve cut myself open for
That I tried to **** myself.

Not a call,
Or a text,
Or anything.
Radio silence
Fuzzy in my ears.

Because I don’t matter.
I’m not one of the important ones.

When I was just a girl,
And my face was being freshly painted
By puberty,
They each
Took a knife
And carved their names
Into the bottoms of my feet,
So it would always hurt
When I tried to walk away.

I made my own medicine,
Found the antidote
To the poison.
I’m wrapping my wounds
In bandages,
And I
Am walking
  Mar 2020 Anonymous Freak
a cage

to keep
you out,

to keep
you in.
  Mar 2020 Anonymous Freak
When a child throws a tantrum,
he’d cry and scream and wail.
He’d flail his arms and throw himself on the floor.

Like a child I have tantrums too.

But I have grown past the luxury where it is acceptable for me to openly showcase such explosive displays of displeasure and discontent.

So what do I do?
I have to carefully select words that possibly could capture the essence of the disquiet in my heart and mind.

And I pen them down in tears.

This is me,
and I’m throwing a tantrum.
Anonymous Freak Mar 2020
You were my dream
When I was sixteen,
And my nightmare
Three years later.
Every time I think
I’m starting to forget you
I wake up from a nightmare
Facing your
And I know I can never forget.
Anonymous Freak Mar 2020
A full stomach
Feels like giving up.
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