Ophelia was lucky,

I bet the lake was idyllically pretty,
peaceful, secluded,

I bet she was surrounded by flowers,
weaving themselves into her wet, tangled hair,

I bet she was dreaming as she drowned,

there would have been no one
forcing down a door

no sirens and blue flashing lights
racing her back to life

Ophelia was lucky,

fifty aspirin doesn’t have quite
the same ring to it

as a Shakespearean suicide