No name,
That’s what we used to call her—past tense,
When the stars used to shine, and the fear of dominion
Was no where to be found in her lines that passed free,
And sunk in their teeth.
Only three days ago-72 hours, with t5he clock of a ticking time bomb
Tick-tock—she is no longer found in the halls, with her hood drawn up,
As she withdrew upon the gates that concealed her mind, where it found a figure
Through the dark, hidden from the light, with its arms stretched out—needing
Only willingness. And her music blasting scream-o, flowing into the ears that would not listen.
The same as of the eyes that could not see—a blur of faces, now words to be heard.
In the middle of the classroom she sat—where I was in the back, oblivious.
Oblivious. The word I use to remember. I never noticed the scars that stayed hidden under
Her baggie hoodie she wore 365 days a year. I never noticed our words that flowed
Into the gap beneath her ribs, as it interpreted them into something sincere the night
She succumbed to our impulse. I never noticed her hazy eyes, that rolled back in class
From time to time.
Hazy—that’s all she’s left behind in her memory. With our blinded eyes, and our black hearts
That did not care. We carved sentences that spelled out her flaws onto the mirror,
As we forced no name to trace it until the ringing reached her ears. We watched as her finger depicted
The broken glass, as we marked out her crimson path.
In her routine of uncertainty of being unnoticed she was lost some-where behind.
Now all there’s left are the “what ifs” from us, and the “oh wells” from the note that she left,
with a bottle half empty in her hand, as she laid cold and lifeless on her bathroom tile floor.
Now we know her name—she’s the one who slipped away.
That’s all that’s left of her now—her name and the memories forgotten in time.