This is a story
About pain and sadness
But there is also a hint of irony.
It depicts my first and last time
Inside that presumptuous building on the hill.

I had seen it many times
Played on its playground as a child
Gone to its annual carnival as an adolescent
Its daunting shadow had watched me
With eyes of judgment
Many times before.

Finally entering through the doors
Was some kind of out-of-body experience
Mostly because of what I was there for.
The funeral of a friend was the dreary occasion.

How I miss him so
And it is still an offbeat feeling
When I think about him now.
I feel a twinge in my chest cavity
Every time I replay a memory of him.
It literally hurts my heart.

Anyway, I walk into the church
Decked out in black
My makeup has been replaced by the stains of tears.
I never felt uninvited,
As I imagined I might.
But I didn't quite know what to do.
I look ardently for a friend to sit next to
Or even an acquaintance.
No such luck.
I had to teach myself Catholic rituals
I was once again, alone.

Looking around as I entered, I saw people
Dipping their fingers in some kind of Holy water
And crossing themselves.
They seemed to be whispering something
But I couldn't make it out.
I did make a travesty of that practice
As I attempted to imitate them
Muttering some chicken scratch to look like I knew what I was doing.
I, apparently, got too much on my fingers
And some of it dribbled onto my freshly ironed shirt.
Awesome start to the day.

I sat next to two amiable-looking people
And kind of kept to myself.
The service was very sweet and honored him and his family
Wonderfully.
However, when we had to drop to our knees for prayer
I was a little bit late the first time
And the little padded areas
That you kneel on
Would not unlock themselves from the pew the second.
Great.

The worst part may have been
That during the ceremony
I could not cry.
I could not understand it.
I had sobbed for the days prior
So why, now when it's appropriate,
Can I not shed a single tear?

I feel insensitive
I also feel the sanctimonious glares of those surrounding me.
Eventually, droplets started bleeding from my eyes like crazy.
Am I crazy?

Finding a friend to drive me back to school
Proved to be easy
He held me as I bawled
While everyone else had stopped
Stone faced.
Why am I the only one
Who's emotions come and go
At the very wrong times?

Such a wreck
Such a paradox
Such a tale of heartache
For my first time in a Catholic steeple.

October
Body's cold,
And I'm shaking.
A year clean of cutting
Is a beautiful thing.
But when it comes to the rest of the world
Has it just stopped spinning?
I am lost, with no direction.

November
I find myself grasping at straws.
I revisit the practice of purging
And I do it well.
Not only do I make myself *****
But I starve myself too.
Only, they don't know
I've been using it to my advantage
For years.

December
A teacher discovers my eating disorder
So what can I do but confess?
It has been my lifeline
But I will not lie for it
At least, not yet.
But that doesn't mean I'll stop.

My mental state weakens
And I see the slits of light through my shade.
That's all I can get
Since the dreaded events of this past September.

January
The bitter cold sends a shock through my skin
The sky is some muted shade of grey
The air is icy like my soul.

I try to push past it,
Try to let the sun reach me
But it won't
It can't.
Does this month ever end?

February
Still as hostile as its predecessor
But three days shorter.
I look through the crack of my window
Trying to embrace the light.
I get so bored so easily
As winter rages on.

How can I get through this sleet storm?
Pieces of hail, like little bullets, pierce my skin
I want to run for shelter
To the one thing that smells familiar.
A knife, a finger in my throat,
But I hold on just a little bit longer.
The only relief I allow myself
Is a drag from a cigarette
But it is still too cold for that.

March
The dead begins to find its life
Small specks of green begin to show themselves.
The air begins to rise
And I can go outside again.
But for the first fifteen days
The temperature is less than inviting.

March is also a marker.

It's been six months since God gained an angel
Six months since my body was violated again
Six months since that brutal September
That broken, sickly month
That changed my life.

April
Oh, how I love you
But I could do without your rainy days.
Even though things are looking up
I am looking down a sewage drain
Or over the edge of a balcony

Will I fall off?
Will I jump?
Will I be pushed too far?
No one can say for sure.

May
I always thought this was the perfect time of year
If I ever have children
I hope at least one of them is born during this month.

School's almost out
Senior year is on the horizon
College* is just over the mountain.
Yet my fear for the future prevails.
While my anticipation to get out of here is extreme,
I wish I could know
Who I will become
And if this ailment will leave my spirit alone.

June
Insanity plagues the dainty first month of summer
Whether it be
Finals, graduation parties, or day trips
The insanity in my mind is always unrelenting.

July
The blistering heat
Keeps me mostly indoors
Between work and vacation
I barely have time to breathe in
The suffocating density
Of the nearing 100 degree summer air.

Yet, there is still no one around
No one who's there for me
Who the hell cares?
It's summer
Which gives them a new excuse
To forget about my existence.

August
The birthday blues catch me by the throat
Everyone's gone
And I'm another year older
Big deal.

I smile
Thank them for my presents
Pray to get what I really want:
My license.
Freedom.
A car that I will purchase
After almost two years of working the same
Minimum wage job.
Only time will tell.

But there is nothing special about this birthday.
Multi-colored candles replace my cigarettes
At least they won't give me cancer.

September
School's in session.
But more importantly
It's the anniversary
Of a friend's death
And that vicious attack.
So how do I feel?
How do I cope?
How do I deal?

Honestly, I battle the pain.
Honestly, my memories of both are my only connection.
Honestly, I feel okay.