In Remembrance

Something I wrote when thinking of all the ways someone could be bullied and what a bystander might think in response.

I remember the day they splattered paint on her jeans in Art
And instead of cleaning up she rubbed it on her arms
Because she was a work of art.

I remember the day she dropped her glasses
And one of them stepped on the frame
But she wore them anyway
Because they made her see the world differently

I remember the day they tipped her lunch onto her blouse
And she took the shirt and framed it
Because stains were beautiful in her eyes

I remember the day they held her diary in front of her face
The day after she’d lost it
And her only reply was ‘What’d you think?’

I remember the day we went outside in Creative Writing
And she sat on a tree branch over the lake
But they thought it would be funny to knock her down
So she wrote a poem about flowers while swimming

I remember the day she fell asleep
And they tied her shoelaces together
And she stayed on the floor after falling
Because even she couldn’t see beyond that one

I remember finding her body
Hanging in the stained shirt
And the splattered jeans
With her shoelaces tied together
And the diary in her pocket
With her glasses still taped and broken
And the belt knotted around her neck
On the tree they cut down
Over the lake they drowned her in

And I know this isn’t the way eulogies usually go
Especially for a suicide

But I will always remember the day
I named myself the one who did nothing.