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hold on to hope, everybody
she was the girl who told everybody
to hold on to hope
while she hid in her bedroom
at night and cut herself
She’d pass the razor blade
by the side
of her ankles
and then crouch so as to lick
and slurp
the blood
swirl it around her mouth
until it lost its salty, iron taste
and then swallow
She always wore pants
never a skirt
and she was the girl who
told everybody to hold on to hope
until the last moment
She would climb on the roof
and smoke menthol cigarettes while
watching the stars in the sky
and slowly, slowly drift into touching
herself
I don’t even know her name
but I would like to
ask her
to be my muse
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