Anonymously Me

Please don’t tell me to write happy poems

These are my poems

Same as these are my feelings

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I’ve been changing myself to fit people’s standards,

since third grade,

I don’t know her she was weird and goofy,

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My cry for help was heard for no reason,

Just a quiet call - my life’s small beacon.

No one could hear, no one could see

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Time stopped when he took her body and left her there,

Alone by the river with nothing to wear.

He took everything she had, then turned away,

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No one would notice if she floated away,

No hand would reach out - none to help her stay.

She fights hard, but she does so alone,

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Just below the surface,

always within reach but rarely seen,

a place hidden from the pain

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It is absolutely terrifying the kind of deep suffering the happiest people are able to hide inside themselves.

i just wanna know what i did wrong

i kinda feel like im in an game of ping pong

we go back and fourth about stuff

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Things that remind—

and the ghosts come to call.

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I don’t use music to escape.

I use it to stay.

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