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"i. the first time one of my friends tried to commit suicide, I was thirteen. they kept her in the hospital for two days. when we found out it was tylenol she had swallowed in order to get the pain to stop, some dudes made a comment about how she was trying too hard, how if she'd really wanted it she would have sucked down bleach instead. behind her back, her failure wrote itself into a punchline. I felt each joke like a crack against my own bones. i didn't speak up. i didn't know how.

ii. the first time i met you, your eyes danced with enough light that i think you made the sun jealous. we grew up as garden children, soft soil bodies that only wanted to erupt with flowers instead of bruises. you were the only person who read my poetry without laughing or saying it was too dark to be good. you were the only one who told me i should keep on writing.

iii. the first time someone in my school died, i watched girls collapse in the hallways crying. teachers cancelled classes. we wore black armbands. everyone talked about how unfair it was. everyone talked about themselves.

iv. the first time i told someone about the cuts was in the eighth grade. she laughed and said that i was too happy of a person.

v. the last time i told someone about the cuts was in the eighth grade. i never recovered. i'm twenty-one.

vi. the last time i saw you, there was a smile on your face and your eyes were the Northern Lights. you and i held hands and ran through the rain and shook our fists at the sky and curled under blankets and told each other secrets. We were almost asleep when you said you wanted to die.

vii. i still visit your grave from time to time."

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