by Freyja Heigh-Roper

When I was 5 girls threw rocks at me,
thinking I was a monster.
I wish I dealt with problems
that small now. 

Then I knew I could ask for help.

But now it’s not that easy. 
Everyone bullies me. 
And it all adds up
and then
I push him out of his chair.
And that just makes it worse.

The only person I can tell my feelings to is my 
imaginary friends and my cats. Also my baby cousin.

Just someone could be nice.