no pretty little princess night light fastened to a peach wall in a brick house
i watched the street lights flicker through a gap in the blinds, talking to you in my head like,
"i hope your hands are still soft i hope your teeth are still crooked i hope you follow the street lights, count your way to my house, and sleep beside me in my bed"
i left the window open in the winter cause i thought you were the wind
the cold kept me up and i liked it cause i was afraid of the pictures in my head when sleep left me powerless, out of control
i never liked losing control
one foot in front of the other ... always coaching myself in my head about things that hardly mattered
12 years small, afraid of mistakes afraid of rejection afraid of death and friendship and grief and loving
falling asleep at school the next day chipping my front tooth on a ceramic desk, and holding my breath
i never cried in occupied spaces
i never asked for help
i never said, "something's not right" even though those words lived on the tip of my tongue for years on end
they noticed the shadows under my eyes but it was too late, 14 & poisoned by loss and guilt and this growing fear that made it hard to speak without my voice breaking
no one knew how to treat me my mom didn't let me lock doors or wear long sleeves
when you hung yourself the noose came after me
you were gone in minutes i stayed gasping for air and fighting for years
i'm twenty-two now and it's no miracle i made it
i ******* scratched at the roof of the coffin you nailed me in til my finger nails bled and the wood split just enough for my lungs to stop straining
you doomed me from such a young age i have trouble deciphering where your death ends and my personality begins
i am drenched in your blood everything i touch is tainted by the memory of your brother's shaky voice through a landline receiver
i can't take a ******* shower, open a letter, tie my shoes, brew a coffee, say a word, skip a class, put on lipstick, breathe for ****'s sake without the weight of your blue, cold body cracking my chest
they pulled me out of a seventh grade class room to say, "they took him off life support"
and i didn't ask questions and i knew what that meant and i fought back tears, swallowed them, this dry lump in my throat and i never spoke of you again
i was so small
how could you
"we got a dud i think she's broken" i imagined those lines dancing through my mom's mind
and i blinked hard i cut deep i stayed home i stayed asleep
i wasn't a normal kid, it wasn't easy to hide
defined by death answering to your crimes
you took your life but you may as well have taken mine