'Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!"

Said A to B, "I don't like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!"

"I disagree," said D to B,
"I've never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O."

C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I'm made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape."

"He's right" said E; said F, "Whoopee!"
Said G, "'Ip, 'Ip, 'ooray!"
"You're dropping me," roared H to G.
"Don't do it please I pray."

"Out of my way," LL said to K.
"I'll make poor I look ILL."
To stop this stunt J stood in front,
And presto! ILL was JILL.

"U know," said V, "that W
Is twice the age of me.
For as a Roman V is five
I'm half as young as he."

X and Y yawned sleepily,
"Look at the time!" they said.
"Let's all get off to beddy byes."
They did, then "Z-z-z."

We are the things that get swept under
rugs. A ***** mass that the world strives to keep
hidden. Flecks of skin and strands of hair. Toe nails. Trapped
in the carpet with the bodies of the bugs
of which we have been bitten.

Gaze not upon our swollen parts;
inflamed. Your eyes will entice us to spread
rashes. The forbidden always in our thoughts
like stubborn mattress stains.

We are the things that live in closed
closets. Tearing at the threads meant to keep you
sheathed. Disembodied torsos on wiry hooks. Scarves. Chewing
holes through the garments with worn-out teeth.

Chills will let you know we're near
as you toss and turn in bed. We are the shadows that
watch you while you sleep. Our goal is to fill you with fear.
Your soul is ours to reap.

I've got the drinks, and I've got the will
I've got the time
And expired pills

I'll use them all
To get what I want
Wait, that's not right
I mean to deal with not getting what they want

A selfish brat, maybe
Tantrums like crazy
Pouting over nothing
Poor little baby

I'm good at self-loathing
I don't need your help
I've got plenty of sedatives;
One-way tickets to hell

It's where all my friends live
I'll fit right in
We perspire and make toasts to the worst of our sins

And laugh at the people
Who spent lives longing for choirs
Up there in white-walled mansions
Built of unfulfilled desires

I told you that you were loved and you didn't believe me.
What made you think that I didn't love you?
What made you believe that you were a lost cause?
Who the **** told you that you weren't good enough?
I want to know.
More so, I want to wrap the noose around his neck BEFORE he touched you,
Before you got the chance to wrap it around yours.

Ever since you left, I have suffocated underneath your death.

I do not sleep with blankets on anymore because I can not stay warm knowing that you are lying cold in the ground.

I no longer open up my windows and let the let shine in because I know that you are drowning in the darkness.

I can not put my hands to the steering wheel and drive because I will never be able to let go of the day that we stole that blue minivan and tried to get away.

I just want to know why you didn't tell us what was wrong.
I want to know why we weren't there.
I want to know why the last words that escaped were: "You're gonna miss me when I'm gone."

When you're gone? When you're gone? You can't be gone. I won't believe that you are gone, that your beautiful body is buried somewhere beneath the dirt when you deserved to stand on stars.

I want to know why you didn't leave me a ******* note, some type of ******* answer.

Because now, I'm stuck. I am stuck, and I am haunted by your ghost. I am missing every bit of you.

I am missing your voice.

I am calling you. Please come back to me.

Your voicemail.

"Hey, it's Meagan! Leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

But you're NOT getting back to me. Sometimes I pretend that you will.

Did you know that I would be broken without you? That these needles are the only thing that can possibly puncture me enough to make me feel again?

Did you know that whenever anything goes wrong, my first thought is: "If only she were here"

When you left, you took every bit of hope from me.
When you left, you took my will to live.
When you left, when you left, when you left,
WHAT made YOU think I was strong enough to handle THIS?!

It's been seven months. I am not sure I can make it seven more.

I have become filled with you, your sweet little laugh,
and the stupid ******* jokes you played.

It was not a joke when you hung yourself.
No one laughed; no one dared make the slightest of sounds.
We held our breath and danced with candles until the moon in itself faltered and fell down.

veins remembering needles and sticky tar
will never stop feeling pinpricks-
girls with trackmarks will never forget
the words men whisper as they get their hits

we spent our summer writing songs,
and burning through packs of cigarettes--
we lit our way through the promised land,
and found that no promise is ever kept

swimming doesn't feel the same
when beach-goers stare down your scars
i am looking for an exit route;
something strong to take me out

ever since you wrapped that noose around your neck,
i have suffocated underneath your death-
what made you think i could handle it?
what made you think i was strong enough?

i often blame myself for your loss;
"what if i was there?" would you be gone?
because *******, i miss you
you didn't have to drown-- alone

you bang, and run, and jump up and down throughout my frazzled brain
my pillow has lost it’s softness- it has become filled with you
your sweet little laugh,
the stupid ******* jokes you always played...

it was not a joke when you hung yourself.
no one laughed; no one dared make the slightest of sounds.
we held our breath and danced with candles
until the moon in itself faltered and fell down.

i miss you
endlessly.
i felt your sorrow when your tears fell upon my pale legs;
i told you that you were loved and you didn't believe me

tylenol won't fix the ache that breaks me,
and codeine has never tasted so bitter--
my lungs are sputtering black dust;
i wish the cigarettes would burn you away

John Keats
John Keats
John
Please put your scarf on.

I’ve never found charm in speaking
words that you don’t mean
or falling over sentences
struggling with broken speech
the same way that I have never found home
in the body I call mine
that internal war I fight
between my heart and between my mind.

The world will never understand
why I tremble in daily conversation
I cause confusion in my thoughts
skipping over words in trepidation
But miscommunication then turns to judgement
without a second glance
and your lack of hesitation destroys me
tracing it’s steps into my one woman war

Well isn’t that just like your fears,
setting you up for failure?