Her Poem

She asked me to write her a poem  
Her, with the long hair I've stared at when she looked away
Her, with the brown eyes that I always got lost in  
Her, with the soft skin I've only felt as she brushed by me in the halls
And I told her I would.  
 
She ran off to her boyfriend who then looked at me
Him, with a letterman jacket hanging from his steroid shoulders
Him, with the hands that always roamed her body a bit too freely
Him, with the pretty smile that melted  more hearts than a few
And he laughed at me.  
 
When I got home I started to think about her poem
My mother, yelling about something else that I didn't do
My sister, too immersed in her own world to see anything but her own problems  
My brother, too young to be bothered and to weak to share my burden  
So I waited.  
 
I waited until they all began to snore
My bed, empty because I had given up on sleep days ago
My head, swimming with fantasies of a young poet that gets the girl
My clock, steadily ticking the night away while I thought
And I wrote.
 
Now many days had passed and during one of them I learned something  
 
She found her boyfriend and her best friend  
Their bodies tightly wound together as only the young can do
Surrounded by empty red cups and old music
As the world quickly revolved around them.
 
So I threw away her poem  
 
The next day she smiled at me as she walked past  
Her, with her hair cut short because it was his favorite thing about her
Her, with the brown eyes that seem darker than before  
Her, with the soft skin covered by baggy clothes  
And I smiled back.
 
She ran past her ex who then looked at me
Him, with the letterman jacket that now rested on another girl's shoulders
Him, with the hand he claimed only grabbed her because he drank  
Him, with the pretty smile that melted the wrong heart
And he smirked at me.
 
I get home determined to write her a better poem
My mother, away for work because traveling makes it easier to deal with life  
My sister, out every night with that guy she likes and his friends  
My brother, gone with his friends that smoke behind the school  
So I sat alone.
 
I sat until they all finally came back
My bed, lined with clothes because I had given up on style days ago
My head, sinking deeper into despair as I searched for a purpose  
My clock, moving slower every night as I cried
And I wrote.
 
Now many days had passed and during one of them I learned something  
 
They found her and her sister
Their bodies beaten as only the young can survive  
Covered with bruises left by their father's drunken hand
As the world still revolved around them.
 
So I threw away her poem
 
The next week she actually stopped to talk to me
Her, with the brown hair she kept tightly tied in a bun on her head
Her, with the brown eyes that were now black and swollen  
Her, with the soft skin that she still kept covered with baggy clothes
And I talked to her.
 
She turned around when she saw her ex and he looked at me
Him, with the letterman jacket that he never wore anymore  
Him, with the hands that had nothing to grab when he drank
Him, with the pretty smile that melted hearts and gave him the world
And he glared at me.
 
When I got home I planned to write her the best poem
My mother, using work as a reason to run because she doesn't feel in control  
My sister, using the phone to call the next guy she likes to tell him
My brother, using the hammer to break the lock on the liquor cabinet  
So I stood.  
 
I stood until they all stopped moving
My bed, covered in books because i had given up on reading days ago
My head, sunken under the weight of the expectations I put on myself
My clock, continuing the seemingly endless cycle as I smiled
And I wrote.
 
Now many days had passed and during one of them I learned something  
 
Her ex and his friends found her  
Their bodies drunk to limits only the young can handle
She was surrounded by bodies
As the world slowly revolved around them.
 
So I threw away her poem
 
The next month she cried on my shirt as she did everyday now
Her, with the long hair she dyed because nothing feels right anymore
Her, with the brown eyes that seem distant and broken
Her, with the soft skin that never wanted to be touched again
And I watched her.
 
She ran away quickly when she saw her ex
Him, with the same letterman jacket that his friends wore
Him, with the hands the held her down the last time he drank
Him, with the pretty smile that melted hearts and kept him safe
And he smiled at me.
 
When I got home dreamed of the perfect poem
My mother, shut off in her room because she can't face what we've become  
My sister, shushing her son as she still tried to find that guy she liked
My brother, silently lying on the floor with a needle in his arm
So I left.  
 
I left until they realized I was gone
My bed, stuffed with empty pill bottles because I had given up on living days ago
My head, drowning in a sea of words I didn't know how to say anymore  
My clock, swiftly spinning around as I laughed uncontrollably  
And I wrote.
 
Now many days had passed and during one of them I learned something  
 
They found her all alone
Her body hanging from a rope as only the young will understand  
Covered in scars along her arms and thighs
As her world just stopped.
 
So I kept her poem
 
A year later and I still remember  
Her, with the hair that became weak because she never ate
Her, with the brown eyes that never seem to focus anymore  
Her, with the soft skin she hated so much she tried to cut a way out  
And I loved her.