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233 · Nov 2018
No One
Sara Michele Nov 2018
No one wants to be friends with the depressed kid
Or the one with crippling anxiety
That poor child who was traumatized, but
Everyone steps away when she needs help
When the evil
Dark
Oh, so evil thoughts creep back
And she begins to cry during her lessons in class
But that’s just who she is
The depressed kid
Who sits in the corner
Crying
Alone
With no one to turn to
No true friends
She stays in the corner, rocking
To comfort herself, because that’s
All that she knows to do
She’s never had anyone hold her
And tell her that she will be alright
No one to tell her that she is loved
No one to show her affection
No one to massage her hand while she cries
No one to care if she-

No one wants to be friends with that depressed kid who cries in the back corner of your class.
Depression, OCD, Bulimia, anxiety, what’s next?
158 · Dec 2019
Love
Sara Michele Dec 2019
I lean on his shoulder when
I am down. By warming me up he

Calms me. “I’m sorry” I said,
But I’m told not to worry. He

Tells me I am loved,
That all he needs is me

And I couldn’t ask for more than his
Caring self, or the sweet words from his mouth

That picks me up from my lows. Was
There ever a time as enjoyable as this? Even a

Small moment I may have forgotten? I’m being straight
When I say that I can’t fit my joy in this line.
This is a golden shovel poem. Using a line from Neil Hilborn’s OCD “when she said she loved me his mouth was a straight line”
137 · Dec 2019
Mistreated and Bound
Sara Michele Dec 2019
Mistreated and bound tight in wires,
He entertains the crowd.
The whip burns like fire
And stings like bees.
He does what the audience desires.

They use him for his oddity
To attract an audience.
He is mistreated because he
Wants to be an average polar bear.
All he wants is to be free!

Instead of ice and snow
With fat seals and the cold,
He must stay in his new “home”
Which is hot and uncomfortable.
But the crowd cannot know.
Based off of a National Geographic image of a polar bear in a circus
112 · Dec 2019
The Luckiest Girl
Sara Michele Dec 2019
His arms are wrapped around me tight.
I hold him close to my beating heart.
The thumps are loud and rhyme with delight,
That he is beside me, no longer apart.

He holds me when I’m tired and sad,
And I fall asleep within his grasp.
He cares deeply for me like no other had.
To hear his voice, a gentle rasp,

I consider myself lucky to have him.
I would love to see him every day,
Because he is not some thoughtless whim,
But a person I’ll always desire, in every way.

I’m the luckiest ******* the planet,
And I’ll never forget when we began it.
A Shakespearean sonnet

— The End —