The Freak She Chooses to Be

She is quiet, observing, absorbing the emotions swirling around her. Energy emanates, and she feels every thought, every emotion, every anguished cry and joyful shout gone unvoiced.

They say she is like stone, they say she cannot feel, because she holds all the feelings she captures inside her.

She knows she feels, she knows she feels what they dare not express, she knows they feel more than they dare express.

They say she is cold. They pity her inability to feel.

She screams, releasing all that thought, energy, emotion, feeling. She howls and howls and howls.

They back away, they say she is too intense, they turn up their noses in disdain at her volume and lack of control. She knows they are afraid she will give voice to what they dare not.

She controls. She silences herself. Tears stream silently down her face and she absorbs. She feels.

If you are afraid to feel, she tells them without speech, I will be the freak, I will carry your anguished cries and your joyful shouts. They will sound inside me, they will echo and ricochet off my insides, and I will silently cry.

You will fear me, you will murmur sounds of pity, you will set me apart and push me aside.

I will be the freak who feels.

I will be the freak, and I will feel.


As I imported poems from my old writing blog, I discovered this piece among the drafts. I had written it for a prompt, probably Magaly Guerrero‘s Beautiful Freaks Fest. If I remember correctly, the reason I chose not to share it then, and instead wrote a different piece for that freaky party, was that it felt too real and too personal. It still does, but now I’m okay with sharing it, after a few revisions ๐Ÿ™‚

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Image from here.

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