Liz,
    I saw you on Christmas
    at church in a black dress and pearls
    we made light conversation
    as we fill filed out with the postlude
    
    31 days later, an ambulance picked you up from your friends house
    there were no lights, there were no sirens
    the obituary told me it was an accidental ****** overdose
    you were 21
    I wish i had seen the bruises on your arm that christmas
    before I walked into the snowy night

Liz,
      your funeral was held at the same church where I saw you last
      where we spent all these years
      as the postlude drew to a close
      we studied the back of wooden pews
      we asked ourself the  same question
      "Would I have been able to help?"
      we beg the walls for answers
      but they offer no reply

Liz,
     If I saw the bruises, would I have known?
     If I had known, would I have the courage to say anything?
     What would I have said?
  
    I could've given you a scared-straight talk
    with warnings and statistic
    shown you before and after pictures
    ripped from a health textbook
    but spitting facts into the face of an addict
    is like lecturing someone of the dangers of riptides
    when they're six miles from shore
    rambling about 3rd degree burns
    to someone trapped in a burning house
    but how do I keep forgiving from becoming ignoring?
    how do I stop helping from bordering on ratting out?
    I want to to get help but I don't want you to resent me
                God, what I would give
                for you to hate me right now

Liz,
      my mother discussed your passing
      with friends with red wine lips
            "Oh, Liz? Yeah- my son said she was a ****** kid"
      a ****** kid, not the pastor's daughter
     or the mission trip veteran,
     not the day care teacher, or the prankster,
     not the angel in the 2006 Christmas play
    
     Where is the line between good and bad?
     how many track marks does it take to turn a girl into a statistic?
     how far in must one drive the needle to be reduced
     to the trope of a ****** kid
     how many melted milligrams does it take to wash away the good qualities
     and leave behind a skeleton of a girl we once knew

Liz,
     they say you're gone, you're in a better place
     but God i know you're still here
     I see you in the flowers, skirting the steps of the church
     I hear you between the harmonies
     of all the hymns
     I can feel your presence
     breathing out from the cracks in the stone walls
     I see you in coffee shops
     and in restaurants and on the streets
     mocking me to do a double take
     before I remember
     and you know we have forgiven you
     as we have wailed it at the stained glass
     I really hope you have learned to forgive us

Liz,
     I saw you christmas eve
     black dress and pearls
     you died 31 laters
     you were 21
     I wish I had seen the bruises on your arm
    I wish I could've helped

You stupid sonofabitch.
I hope you burn less than you did when you were here,
and that maybe you finally caught up with the monster you were chasing.
We still drink to you
on days like this,
Glasses raised to the day you showed up,
Broken bottle on the back porch to forget the day you left.
Oh, and pay your mother a visit sometime, she misses you so.
She's been saving lives in your name for years now,
but the kids are still dropping like flies.
Tell her it's okay,
that she's done her part.

I guess I just miss you.
That heart of gold is still the talk of the town, but I remember the black fingers wrapped around it much better,
And I want you to know that I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I didn't save you.
So tonight I'll drink
Not to the ashes on the mantel or the flowers on the grave.
But to you.
Happy birthday, Matt.
Wherever you are.

I love you so much. Too much.
I want you. I need you.
There for i cannot. Will not.
Let myself have you.
I'm stuck. I'm trapped. I do not know how to get out out.
Help me. Love me. Need me. Want me. Kiss me.
Throw me up against the wall. The floor.
Throw me on the bed.
Make love to me hard and passionate.
Look me in the eyes and tell me you ******* hate me and need me!
Take to me *****.
Choke me. Slap me. Pull my hair. cut me.
You **** her. I **** him. Together. Beat them. Too death.
It turned me on.
Blood
**** me
Guts
Cut me
I touched myself.
You watched.
Your *** in my cuts.
Needle
******
Veins
Blood
Sick twisted ****** up love.
I need it
Turn me on
Use me
**** me
LOVE!
Passion like no other.
****
*****
****** up
Sick in the head
LOVE!
Stab me
Slap me
Beat me
You did it
Lay with me as the blood of the wound leaks out.
WAKE UP!
I'm dead
Get high
Needle
******
Veins
Blood
To the point of no return.
Your dead
TOGETHER.
Together we lay here.
Here in this bed.
******
LOVE
BLOOD
I love you so much. Too much.
I want you. I need you.
There for I cannot. will not.
Let myself have you.
LOVE!

Don't shut your eyes.
Give no volunteer.  
They will speak for themselves,
fall over your cheeks,
and mirror your pupils,  
as they roll back,
pulling your conscious with them. Hesitating only enough to leave it behind. But consciousness is always best
kept at the border.
If you find you've been left with enough
to remain alert,
by then, you will be dreaming.  
A distorted image
of prominent conversations,
or any notions with the significance
of being sufficiently alien.
The narcotic superlative,
naturally expressed.
God's allegory of home,
fully understood,
only by those
who discovered it deeply enough
to make it a reality.
But I had always been a skeptic.

A moment,
less significant than this,
Drenched in apathy and meaning,
Absolution found - in rolling eyes,
To usurp the sense of confidence,
Enduring, to be unearthed,
Eventually

I remember when i found out
my heart had left my body and my hands were trembling

I remember when you were my best friend and we were inseparable

I remember making forts together with the basement cushions

I remember dancing through the days with the top hits of 2002

I remember when you started staying out all night and sneaking in 

I remember when you changed your friends

I remember when your eyes didn’t look the same

I remember when you showed me a green plant

I remember when you showed me a small pill
I remember when I took drugs with you
and we danced through the day just like old times

I remember when you were dragged down the hallway by your hair
and all I could see was your feet flailing
and all i could hear was your piercing screams

I don’t remember you for fourteen months

until you came back for thanksgiving

I remember your eyes didn’t look the same

I remember your voice was different 

I remember your legs looked like small branches
and your cheeks were sunken in

I don’t remember you for two months

I remember when you went away
and you said you were going to get better

I remember before you left
we laid in my bed
and you showed me your scars
and told me your stories

I remember you looked me in the eyes and told me everything was going to be okay

I remember you crying through the nights
taking endless cold water baths
and throwing up until the sun came up

I remember the day you left and all you wanted to do was smoke one last cigarette

I don’t remember you for three weeks


I remember you when you came back
I remember you gained weight

I remember you looked healthy

I remember you glowing with beauty

I remember my mom finding a spoon in the drawer of the bed side table
with burnt cotton

I remember her telling me not to come home because she didn’t want me to be there when she told you to leave

I remember you called me and you cried
and you said sorry to me

I don’t remember you for eighteen months

until you called your dad three days before my birthday
and said you used his insurance for rehab and you needed money for your prescription

I don’t remember you for two months

I remember you at thanksgiving but your mind wasn’t there 
just your body

I’m sure I won’t remember you for another seven months.