The Nine Reasons I Cried

I cried for him

The first boy I (thought I) loved

For the front he did his best to maintain

For the buzz under his skin that never quieted

For the dreams he had to hide from

parents who wave Bibles and swing fists.

Parents shouldn't project onto their child.

I cried for him.

 

I cried for her

The girl who sat across from me in Math

For the whispers she hides in songwriting journals

For the blood she spills when metal bites her skin

For the words she toyed with, hot as flame,

tossing between old friends and new.

Play with fire and you get burned.

I cried for her.

 

I cried for him

The boy who sat next to me in English

For the screams that bounced around his hallways

For the secrets he had no choice but to keep

For the nights he spent praying

no one would open the bedroom door.

Please, please, don't hurt him.

I cried for him.

 

I cried for her

The girl who sat across the room in History

For the moments when her mother disappeared

For the loneliness of sitting in a pure black void

For the tears in her wrists with scissors

cut inside a hoodie in the middle of class.

Pain is it's own kind of drug.

I cried for her.

 

I cried for him

The boy in my project group in Music

For the hangers his mother threw 

For the impeccable track record his brother left behind

For the expectations no one could possible reach

that bred failure by virtue of existing.

People aren't perfect.

I cried for him.

 

I cried for her

The girl at the top of Art class

For the panic she felt at the thought of sharing

For the fear of the world that she never could escape

For the ache in her soul for freedom

that she could only ignore.

Prisoners can be their own prisons.

I cried for her.

 

I cried for him

The boy with the bright red hair

For the shield of lied that he was lost in

For the people that told him he wasn't true

For the things that were made of him and 

inside of him that tried to tear him apart.

Poison comes from within.

I cried for him.

 

I cried over her

The girl across the room from me in choir

For the conversations I'll never forget

For the moments I wished we shared

For the feelings that she'll never understand

that have haunted me for years.

Passion burns like fire.

I cried over her.

 

I cried over them

The one who sits next to me in History

For the potential that was crushed at the end

For the future I might never share

For the kiss on the cheek I owe them

that I'll never get to give.

Pain might fade, but it scars.

I cried over them.

 

The first boy I (thought I) loved

The girl who sat across from me in Math

The boy who sat next to me in English

The girl who sat across the room in History

The boy in my project group in Music

The girl at the top of Art class

The boy with the bright red hair

The girl across the room from me in choir

The one who sits next to me in History

The nine reasons I cried

 

And now I'm sitting in a journal

Hiding from myself because

I can't cry for me.

Some people are made that way.

So I can only pray that

One of the people I cried for will

Cry for me because

I cannot do it for myself.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community

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