"you're not okay."
"no, you're lying. i can tell. everyone has a trigger."
she's walking around in circles
and trying to pick up her broken pieces, but they're
not fitting like they used to,
something's damaged beyond repair.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?"
"because i've forgotten what it feels like to heal."
she regrets not cutting deeper, when she sees the life
still running through her veins, and her parents asleep
on the hospital chairs.
she comes to school the next day with a bandaged hand
and blue eyes that seem a bit dimmer.
"i broke a mirror."
her cracks speak louder than her words.
she slams her locker door and almost hits the boy walking past
and if this was a movie, she thinks, they'd fall in love
but this is real life, and she is too damaged to even
she's too broken and he's too oblivious
and it's too goddamn late, no matter how pretty his smile.
they find her on the bathroom floor,
"why? why? why?"
she wants to ask her mother to let her bleed out
onto the tile, then take a picture.
it might make a nice Christmas card
but there's too much white gauze and white tiles
and white lights- too many angels to make any good angles.
her Spanish binder rings won't close
all the way and it is the metaphorical straw
that breaks the camel's back.
"Hey, you haven't been to school in a couple of days
and we're really mis-"