I sat in front.
Hearing the snapping.
Flick, flick, flick, flick, flick.
I turned and saw her snapping her ruberband
Across her calm white wrists.
I knew what it was for.
She had told me once before.
I sliced my wrists with a safety pin I told her.
She said I used a small razor.
I knew she was like me.
Taking out frustrations on yourself.
Pity your body with scars of depression.
Rough wild streaks across my wrist is what is left. Bled so bad it went through the night.
I heard her cry through her words.
She was frightened most of the time.
But I still loved her anyway.
She was more than just a simple friend.
She was a girl like me, who is still confused.
Why am I here? We all wonder.
I sat in front.
Hearing the snapping.
The sad part is, she made me feel better too.
Just hearing her snap the rubber band.
At least we both knew-it made sense.
-J L P-
This poem is dedicated to one of my newest best friends. 143 A*
