Please, I need you back;
I need to pack and travel between both houses and back.
Mother I miss you, I miss being with you.
Mother I'm sorry I'm just another stupid kid,
don't know what I did,
forgive me please?
Then we can finally be at ease;
old memories,
flood back to my mind;
A simpler time when things were fine
These past four months have been straight up hell.
Disregard, didn't mean to whine.
You make me sick but I need you still,
racing uphill.
Another day, another pill.
Do you not see?
what you've done to the she
that used to be you daughter?
That innocent princess,
she's been slaughtered.
She's gone,
absent of you,
and with every new dawn,
rises a monster.

I lay with you after,
amused,
by the thought of my brothers finding out.

You made me
promise,
not to tell anyone.

Hush now boy and don't
worry,
this secret's too satirical to spoil.

I love that you know that they'd
****,
you for being more than a friend to me.

That you were their,
friend,
before my secret.

Until I met you.

After a long day of insults,
There was no way I'd go home,
So I decided to do something rad,
I did what I wanted and started to roam.

I fled through the cornfield,
Then hopped over the fence,
Slapped the No Trespassing sign,
And sensed enlightened suspense.

I pulled up my hood,
An old facade for my face,
Then slipped through the gate,
And stood in place at the base.

As I gazed at the beast,
I thought, "I'm ******' bent",
But stuck it the finger,
Then began my ascent.

The metal burned cold,
My hands totally numb,
Never considered the risk,
Just the buzz of the ***.

I got to the platform,
Felt on top of the world,
Saw the Ambassador lights,
Just a wonder struck girl.

I thought a new thought;
the simplicity of dying.
To tell you I didn't consider suicide,
Well, I would be lying.

I stayed up a while,
Musing over the stupidity of life,
Then finally descended,
Mediating my mental strife.

I lit up a ***,
Then wandered away.
That tower would always be special,
But I'll forever be a stray.

THAT girl that sits at the back of the class,
You know the one.
THE Freak who never speaks,
But always has the answer.

THAT Freak who doodles prostitutes in HER math book
THE one who's music you can hear for miles
THAT crazy chic with rasp of a smoker
And eyes that'll break you to bits

THAT sketch who somehow has high grades
THE one who snorts Ritalin in the bathroom
And stays awake in the night
SHE'LL **** you with words before weapons


THE insane one with piercings down her spine;
Has HER masters in Mind over Matter
As the scars on HER arms will attest
SHE can't feel anything.

That word SHE hears,
FREAK,
SHE doesn't ever reject it.

SHE.
EMBRACES.
IT.

It's the same dull presentation every year.
Her friends all aware.
She stands out today,
but then again,
not really.

She is of the few who remembered,
the occasion that is.
Simple black dress.
Black boots.
Poppy ablaze on her heart.
She is quiet today.

The Marlboro-huffing voice,
crackles over the P.A.,
telling students to report to the cafetorium.
She rises out of her seat,
smoothes her dress,
and straightens her poppy.

She is first to hand in the annual
"I Will Remember..."
slip of paper.
Along with her older brother's name.
Not looking back as she leaves.

Everyone files into their seats,
their bland, identical, mauve-coloured seats;
fidgeting before they even sit.
The "populars" in front of her,
texting and tweeting life away.
Insanity.

She silently studies the band, bitter as can be.
All there for extra cred, or to get out of class.
"Delinquents reading sheet music"
Printed on white, crisp new paper,
only to be forgotten about,
or thrown out tomorrow.

The anthem is played,
she loses control.
Tears tearing a path down her face.
Nothing but a scratchy wool sleeve to help;
all the while,
not without a stiff upper lip.

And as soon as it started,
the entire thing is over,
and everyone files out of their seats.
While she and a friend quietly duck into a bathroom,
seeking refuge from the common calm.
She cries.
Then quickly collects herself and walks back alone.

She enters class,
late with bloodshot eyes; daring anyone to speak.
Smeared makeup like warpaint.
Catching the eyes of her classmates,
as well as those of her teacher,
who now understands.

Though it's a silent knowing,
of course;
because nobody enjoys talking about,
nor remembering,
the day of the assembly.