I asked her why she cut herself,
and she said,
"Because death has an edge
and life is pointless."
She asked that I not
write a poem
romanticizing suicide,
just a poem about
how hard it can be
to celebrate life.

I was 6
when my best friend  
left me sitting on the trampoline
as he ran to play with someone else
and I cried and
I was shattered

I was 10
when my parents told me
their marriage had run it's course
but things would
"stay the same"
but I quietly cried and
I was shattered

I was 13
when I first left a scar
on my own body,
hating who I had become
and as the blood dripped
I didn't cry but
I was shattered

I was 14
when my own mother
acted like our relationship had run it's course
and she kicked me out
and she never said sorry
and I tried not to cry but
I was shattered

I was 15
when I realized I was a different
because I liked the girl in my math class
who looked like she could make flowers grow
with her smile
and people told me it wasn't right
and "why me?" ran through my head
and I was scared
and I cried quietly and
I was shattered

Now I'm 16
and I've never had my first kiss
and all my friends run around kissing boys
like we're all gonna die tomorrow
and date guys for fun
just for something to do
and I wonder what's wrong with me
and I cry and
I'm shattered

I'm 16
and school doesn't come easy
like it used to
I was honor roll
and I skipped a grade
and I was a "star student"
because I knew how to make essays flow
and solve that simple math equation
or know the president's order
but my brain's fried
and all the motivation I had has disappeared without a trace
and my dad yells at me for my falling grades
and I don't cry but
I'm shattered

I'm 16
and I smile to avoid the constant
"are you okay?" and "what's wrong?"
because my head is such a mess
I don't even know what's wrong
as I dig a little deeper
and watch my skin drip red
and wonder where I went wrong
and I hold back tears and
I'm shattered

I'm 16
and I'm trying to be happy
I'm trying to be happy
I'm trying to be happy
and I can't cry and
I'm putting myself back together.

-e.w.

I remember being in third grade and wanting to hold her (freckled) hand.
She locked me in a bathroom on my first day of school, but we became friends anyway.
I didn't like her friends and she didn't like mine but we hung out anyway and it was time well spent because you don't talk to someone like her and continue to hate who you are.
She had dark hair that reflected the sun and curled in the wind
and she carried around a binder with a "K" on it so everyone would know how unique her name really was
(it was a very cool name).
Three months at that school and she's all I can remember.
I still wonder if she remembers me.

Slice a blade down my skin, make me an easel for your release.
Stamp your feet on my chest, use my cracked ribs as a doormat.
Rip out my teeth, I'm sure they'd make great confetti at the party for my demise.
Tear apart my heart and feed it to the alley cats. Use my intestines to make dessert.
Craft from my bones an array of musical instruments to play when you remember the joyous occurrence of my death.
**** me so slowly I feel every ounce of pain so I can remember how it feels to be alive before I'm gone.

When I hear your voice I can't help but smile, it's a natural reaction, we all need to embrace perfection.
I just want to hold your hand again.

You, the essence of my heart,

can win me & lose me in one moment,

carefree confidence descending into fear of failure...

an alarming look at the likelihood of loss.


My soul has risen to the immediacy of my mouth

where a touch of your tongue can draw it into your own

or your heedless words send it reeling back

into the dark recesses,

where it hides from the fierce light...

tormented by the longing for another touch.

Is it too much to ask for two more hours with you?
We didn't stay long but I can remember the way your hand fit to mine and the taste of your cheek from our rushed goodbye.
What kind of shoes do I need to wear to walk to where you are?
One day I'm going to wipe the hair from your face to reveal those gorgeous green eyes and revel in the emotions you try to tuck away.
Do you mind if I call every day to tell you how beautiful you are?
I might not always see your face, but I can never forget it when it makes my heart race more than a mile a minute.

You're so different from everyone else.
You light a fire inside of me that can't be put out.
I want to find a way to explain my love for you.
The words that I write, just aren't pulling through.