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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


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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