i wasn't a normal kid
and it wasn't easy to hide,
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