Thank you,
For sitting quietly on the toilet lid as I cried in the shower and not
   correcting a stupid kid who had no reason to.
For tapping lightly my chest as haggard nurses pinned me to the
    examination chair so my father could better see my UTI.
For your gentle words when the angry cooks screamed at a boy
    who knew not what he did.
For teaching me when he stalked our halls and dimmed our lights
    just to blacken his blood.
For staying with me after she left, cause I knew you wanted to give
    her a piece of your mind.

Oh Death, thank you for waiting.
Patience is a virtue, as they say.

With love,
Me

Little Man, little voice
that screams so softly
that others won't hear.

Little Man, that whispers
not half as sweetly
as bitter, dry tears.

Hiding there, in the bathroom mirror.
He bears my face,
and wears my voice.
I scramble for him,
and off he goes
to muddy my coffee cup.

Waiting there, in the office corner.
One more mistake,
a useless choice.
I cower from him.
He jangles in  
my face a dirt hourglass.

Awful thing, please let me sleep.
Little Man: I love you so.

I am so tense.
I am so dense.
I am so small.
But, I can call
"I am still here"